Noon.
Jesse was still slumped at the bar counter, propping her chin up with one hand while idly using the fingers of the other to spin the ice cubes in her glass.
Another day of drunken oblivion. She had always felt that this was all her life would ever be.
A fake, incompetent preacher muddling through life and waiting to die. Maybe that was all there was to it.
Neither good nor bad?
As she thought this, the bar doors were pushed open once more.
"One whiskey, and one milk."
The owner of the voice sounded young. Jesse casually looked up.
A tall young man wearing a cowboy hat from the Wild West era walked into the bar.
Even Jesse, who liked flipping everyone off, could not help widening her eyes the moment she saw him.
The reason was simple: this guy was far too handsome.
The young man sat beside Jesse, gazing at her with a faint, elusive smile.
At the same time, Jesse suddenly realized that her body had begun trembling uncontrollably.
At the same time, a voice within her seemed to be frantically urging her to get away from this place.
Jesse found it baffling. She discovered that she was deeply afraid of this young man she had only just met.
It was as though he possessed some energy she feared, yet he looked like nothing more than an ordinary human.
"Good evening. This one's on me."
Seeing the drink the young man offered, Jesse did not stand on ceremony. She raised a brow and drained the alcohol in her glass.
"Jesse."
"Peter."
The bartender brought over the drinks. The young man pushed the whiskey brimming with liquor toward Jesse, while he himself picked up the milk and took large gulps.
The act of ordering milk at