From a first glance, there were three interesting enough marks. First, an all-female company, most likely celebrating something. Young, above average looking girls. Upper-middle class upbringing, nothing too extravagant, but nothing subpar either. There was a good chance that one of them would feel adventurous enough later in the evening. A long-term game, and, once again, I wasn’t looking for the one-night stand itself, so it wasn’t what I was looking for.

The second one was an attractive woman in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. I would rate her seven-and-half out of ten. And she was already flirting with a dude. They weren’t together, both clearly trying to feel each other's intentions right now, so at the first glance it looked like I got a ‘winner’ of tonight’s lottery. After some more observation, though, it felt like another dud. The guy really looked like a slippery type to me, and, by extension, would most likely just bail out if there was a fight-or-flight situation. Eh, lucky him, I guess.

The third one, though… that was a prime target. A young woman sitting all alone behind the table, served for two, and slowly getting herself drunk. Date-gone-wrong, or, maybe, recent break up? She felt vaguely familiar, but, with the whole time shenanigans and my spotty memory, it could’ve been anyone. Still, who could this be? Too bad that she was sitting at an angle to my current position and I couldn’t quite see her face. Short, somewhere between chin and shoulder-length, brown hair, styled meticulously. Dark gray dress, which left her shoulders and arms bare. I couldn’t exactly judge the length of the dress, but it definitely didn’t quite reach her knees at max. Whoever this girl wanted to impress was one hell of a lucky guy, or maybe a gal. And one hell of a stupid one as well.

I decided to keep my watch for now, waiting for someone to approach the girl first. Nobody wanted to volunteer, though, or so it seemed. Well, there was always a possibility that she, herself, was here as a catfish to lure some loser to leave with her. And so, I just kept looking, scanning for more marks time and again. After about five minutes of my observation, finally something happened. Ugh.

The whole time, all this girl had done was staring at her smartphone, as if waiting for it to ring, while playing with a crumpled napkin. Until her phone’s screen lit up all of a sudden, startling the girl and making her drop the napkin onto the floor. Which she bent to pick up. I almost felt ashamed here for a moment after finally recognizing Claire. Yes, I once again recognized her with just one glance at her shapely glutes. What could be said? The counter girl had a really nice butt.

I cupped my face with a hand, massaging the bridge of my nose. Bloody hell. The third mark was also a dud. Then again, with Claire, if that was her after all, inside the picture, a change of plans was feasible. Just leaving her alone didn’t sit well with me, for more than one reason, and, technically, it won’t need to be a one-night stand either…

I brought my attention back to the girl. Whatever she received on her phone, it was either not what she was waiting for, or was otherwise unpleasant. At least judging by her slumped shoulders. I had a hunch that what's-his-name dude she likes was involved somehow. Shrugging off my own thoughts, I left my place by the bar counter and went to join my acquaintance in her misery.

It was, in fact, Claire. I noted the light, expertly done, makeup, which brought her natural good looks onto another level. Not that many people would even notice her face, considering how much décolleté her dress showed off. The girl, in her turn, didn’t pay me any attention all the way until I plopped onto the seat across the table from her.

“Um, sorry, I already have someone I like, and that seat is already reserved,” Claire said absentmindedly.

“Whatever you say, Counter Girl,” I joked back. “When this guy will decide to show up at last, I will vacate the premises. Though I have some serious questions that I would like to ask him.”

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That got her to tear her gaze from the screen and finally take a look at me.

“Um, Tian?” she asked.

“Yes?” I replied. Oh, right, I still haven’t fixed this misunderstanding.

“Oh, sorry. Had a hard time recognizing you in something that isn’t hoodie and sweatpants.” She evidently was at least a bit tipsy already. “You clean up rather nicely. Who could have guessed?”

“I will take this as a compliment, thank you very much,” I ignored her broken filter. “You, yourself, look positively fabulous. Though, judging by your expression, it didn’t quite work as well as you hoped?”

“You can say that,” Claire sighed.

“I feel there is a story here,” I voiced my curiosity. “So, can you tell me how exactly a beautiful girl like you ended up drinking in the nightclub all alone? Depending on your answer, I might, or might have not, be forced to hunt a certain dense motherfucker down.”

“Hey, it’s not Daniel’s fault. His boss called him and asked him to man an emergency shift.” The girl across the table was quick to defend that prick.

“Was it before or after you met here?” I questioned a bit more.

“Ten minutes or so in,” she answered.

Was that cock-sniffer truly fucking blind? Or is he just a moron? I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Sorry, my mind refused to comprehend the sheer stupidity of that guy,” I apologized. “I hope I'm misunderstanding something here, so how about you tell me the whole story first?”

“It’s a long story,” Claire drawled with a hint of reluctance in her tone. It was clear she wanted to talk, but, for some elusive reason, hesitated.

“Good thing that I am fresh out of things to do this fine night, then,” I half-joked.

“Why would you even want to hear it in the first place?” a question from the counter girl followed.

“Part curiosity, part boredom, part trying to understand the alien logic that guy operates under,” I replied. “I mean, leaving a girl like you all alone in the nightclub… after actually seeing how good she looks. Nah, still can’t wrap my head around it, no matter how much I try.”

I truly couldn’t. Even if it was an emergency, basic human decency, something that I kind of lacked all things considered, dictated to at least send your date back home safely.

“Are you hitting on me?” Again with that question.

“Not quite there, yet.” Slightly different answer.

“Yet?” Raised brow.

“Yet.” Nod.

“Even though you know I have someone I like already?” Another question.

“Wouldn’t stop me.” Reply.

“But something does?” More of stating a fact than a question.

“Many things.” I answered anyway. ”Not finding you attractive, both in appearance and in personality, isn’t one of them.”

Momentary pause. Staredown.

“Would you mind if we change the topic?” Claire broke it first.

“Well, how about you tell me your story, then?” I didn’t mind.

“Fine.” I won.

As a matter of fact, her story was indeed long. And not that original. Only her animated style of storytelling, as well as the unrelated tangents she went on a few times, kept me entertained through it. Wouldn’t work if she wasn’t as cute, though.