Mendalie and Runa were enjoying themselves. Mendalie took her to a local country bar for New Year's Eve. She introduced her to friends and they must've drunk quite a bit. They were dancing and making a scene. Guys were hitting on them half the night, but she was not interested. They counted down the New Year and danced some more.

The door to the bar opened and Grant Ravensdale walked in. He saw Runa and Mendalie but he didn't approach them. He went over to the bar and sat down.

The bartender stood there looking at him.

"Just a soda please," he told him.

The bartender put a glass up and filled it quickly.

Grant turned on the stool and looked around the bar. It was certainly more crowded than normal. He'd been here on occasion with some friends. Usually he would grab a drink, but he wasn't here for that tonight. Grant watched as the two girls walked up to the bar. They didn't notice him there.

"Runa," Mendalie said, "I think I'm too drunk to drive us home."

"Well, what do we do now? You got me drunk too."

"You don't look drunk," she said.

"Well I am," she said, laughing.

"I'll take you," Grant told them. The girls turned to see Grant standing right beside them.

"No," Runa told him, mad. "We're fine, Grant. We don't need you! We don't need anyone but us," she said, and fell over a stool into him. He helped her up and she pushed him away.

"Come on, Runa. Why don't we let him take us home? He's a good guy," Mendalie said.

Runa huffed and looked at him. "Fine, but you better not try anything!"

Grant rolled his eyes. "Come on then."

"Don't tell me what to do. No man tells me!" she said. Then she followed him out of the bar.

It was cold and Grant helped Runa with her coat.

"Thanks," she said.

They followed him to his truck. He got in on the driver's side.

Mendalie opened the door and pointed.

"I'm not sitting next to him. You get in first," Runa told her.

Across the street from the bar was the convenience store. It was open and there were several people going in and out to get cigarettes or drinks and snacks. Several cars sat in the parking lot. The parking lot was a mess. It had all kinds of cigarette butts and candy wrappers or other trash. The pavement was chewed up with small potholes, and there were various 'liquids' and used gum among other things sticking to it.

Sitting by the ice machine was a person in a wheelchair. They had several coats on and a hat. They were holding a brown paper bag with a bottle inside of it. They were intently watching the scene in the parking lot at the bar and taking large sips from their bottle.

It was Brian. His face was dirty. He had a good beard and mustache growing. Grasping the bottle with his right fist tightly, it looked like he had been busy punching something from the bruises on his hand. Someone approached him and he turned to see who it was. Brian's eyes grew wide.

"You don't deserve her," they told him.

"What the hell do you know?" Brian asked.

"She's happy with him now. You should leave them alone," they said.

"This isn't your business," Brian said. "Leave me alone". But Brian was clearly shaken.

"You can't do anything about it," they told him. "Not like this."

"I'm not doing anything," Brian told them, and tried to wheel away from the stranger.

"How badly do you want to?"

Brian stopped and looked at the stranger, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about revenge," the stranger said. Brian looked up at them in a panic. The stranger grabbed his shoulders and Brian's eyes grew wide. Brian began to shake. The bottle in his brown paper bag slipped out of his hand and onto the cement, and broke.