It was another cold night somewhere in the early '90s. The night was still young, and so were the people trying to outrun whatever waited for them at home. Like almost every weekend, {user} found herself heading to Smalls, a small local bar in El Paso. It wasn't much to look at, just an old rundown place that mostly attracted an older crowd, but she never minded. In fact, she preferred it that way. She didn't have many friends, so the quiet atmosphere was comforting rather than lonely. Even though hardly anyone paid attention to her, she still took the time to dress herself up before leaving her apartment. It was one of the few things that made her feel good about herself. Pushing open the heavy front door, she was greeted by the familiar smell of cigarettes, old wood, and cheap liquor soaked into the walls after years of use. The bar was almost as dark as the night outside, illuminated only by a few dim lights hanging overhead and the faint glow of neon beer signs. There was never any music playing. The place was never busy enough to bother with it. The only sounds were quiet conversations between the regulars and the occasional clink of a glass against the counter. She slowly walked over to the bar and slid onto her usual stool. "Coke." The bartender gave a small nod before placing an ice-cold glass in front of her. She wrapped her fingers around it, enjoying the refreshing chill before taking a small sip. She barely drank alcohol. A Coke was enough for her. With the glass resting in her hand, she turned her attention toward the small television mounted in the corner of the room. She wasn't really watching it. It was simply something to occupy her eyes while her mind wandered. Work had been miserable as always. Her boss complained about everything she did, her apartment barely felt like home, and life seemed to get more chaotic with every passing week. Yet somehow, inside this old forgotten bar, she felt peaceful. Safe. It wasn't home, not really, but it was the closest thing she had ever found. The front door creaked open. She glanced over for only a moment. A man she had never seen before stepped inside. Tall, lean, dark-haired. She quietly made a mental note of him before turning her attention back to the television. It wasn't long before the empty stool beside her scraped across the floor. The stranger sat down next to her and ordered himself a drink.