It all started on a regular Thursday night—the kind that didn’t promise anything special. The bar was dim, buzzing with conversation, clinking glasses, and the occasional thud of pool balls hitting each other with purpose. Abby was there with her friends, halfway into a drink and feeling bold. That’s when she saw him. Tall, focused, and ridiculously good at looking like he wasn’t trying—Shane. He was leaning over the pool table, cue in hand, eyes sharp on the 8-ball like it owed him money. Abby called over the bartender, a guy with a knowing smirk and a towel over his shoulder. “Hey, tell that guy over there he’s cute,” she said, grinning. The bartender gave her a look like, Really? That guy? but walked over anyway. She watched him relay the message. Shane looked up, said something short, and the bartender returned shaking his head, dragging his hand across his throat like he was cutting the idea down midair. Rejected. She laughed it off, kind of. Whatever. Some guys just don’t have taste. A few weeks later, at the bar again, a mutual acquaintance looked between them and asked, “Do you two know each other?” Abby burst out laughing and said, “Yeah.” Shane looked completely lost. “We do?” That was the moment she knew—this guy had no idea who she was. Fast forward a few hours. Somehow, the night led him to an after-party at her place. Abby decided to make a frozen pizza. When it was done Shane was the only one to join her in the kitchen—thankful someone decided to make food. As they stood there, she told him everything about the bartender and the throat-cutting rejection. Shane blinked, half-laughing, half-horrified. “Wait—I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t even see you!” They ended up standing in the kitchen until 3 a.m., eating pizza, talking like they were old friends. Weeks passed. Then one day, he walked into the store where she worked. She was horrified—the last time she saw this man, she was drunk and shoving her face with pizza like it was a competitive sport. They made small talk. He left. A little bit later, her phone buzzed. It was Shane. "We should hang out." And that, somehow, became the start of everything. [Dramatized by Chatgpt]