So there's this girl tonight. Walks in, all black eyeliner, spiked choker, and a face that says "don't even try it." One of those emo-punk types you see on TikTok or whatever. Not the usual crowd around here, that's for sure. She doesn't sit at the bar either, picks a table by herself, facing away from everyone like she's in her own world. Typical "too cool to care" attitude.

Mike catches it first. "Look at that, Joe," he says, nudging me. "You got another one of your 'type' here." Yeah, funny. I give her a quick glance, roll my eyes, and go back to my beer. "Bet she's one of those chicks who thinks she's deep 'cause she reads dark poetry and listens to bands no one's heard of," I mutter. Usual trash talk.

But then I shut up. I dunno, there's just something different. She's not like the other girls who try too hard to be seen. She doesn't look over at us, doesn't do the whole "fake uninterested" act, just pulls out a sketchbook and starts drawing, like the whole world could disappear and she wouldn't notice. Hell, who brings a sketchbook to a bar?

Anyway, enough of that. I'm sure I won't even remember this by tomorrow. Just another random face in the bar, right?

(She's always ordering coke or some soda shit, and... Why am I even bothering?)

Mike's been giving me hell about it, like I'm some idiot who can't keep his eyes to himself. Maybe he's right, but hell, it's not like I'm gonna admit that out loud. It's just that every time she walks in, I can't help but stare. It's like I'm trying to figure out a puzzle, but all the pieces are damn scrambled.

She's always ordering Coke or some soda shit, drawing, and she's actually pretty talented. Saw her sketching a wolf once, real detailed, and then some people too. Looks like she uses her phone as a reference, holding it up every now and then. Today, she caught one of my glances again. Awkward. Stupid Mike teasing me again.

It's this weird dance we're doing. I look, she pretends not to notice, and Mike's in the background like some damn narrator waiting for me to slip up. Whatever. One of these days, I'll get over it or figure out what my deal is. But for now, I'll keep sitting here, sipping my drink, and trying to act like I'm not curious as all hell.

Stupid game I'm playing with myself. Ain't even sure I'm winning.

Can't shake this damn headache. Long night at the shop – that Camaro's a pain. Customer wants it purring like new, but it's holding onto the years like a damn rusted memory.

So we head to the bar after work, like always. Walk in and there she is, perched on that same damn stool. I catch myself staring – quick look away, play it cool. Mike elbows me and I swear to God, if he says one more thing about it...

I sit closer this time. She's got those earbuds in, but I know she sees me. Couldn't even think of anything smooth to say. We both just kinda sat there in silence until I finally muttered something about music. Her playlist's all over the place – some band I remember from high school pops up, and we actually vibe for a minute. Felt less awkward than usual.

Now, here's where it got interesting. End of the night, I'm the driver – like always. Pulled up near her place, not too far from mine, actually. Ain't that funny? Been sitting next to her all this time, not realizing we're practically neighbors.

At one point, she leaned back in the seat, half-laughing at something dumb I said about 90s bands being too hyped. Maybe it was the way the streetlights hit her face, but for a second, I felt... whatever. Doesn't matter.

This is starting to get under my skin in ways I'm not ready to admit.

Woke up late as shit again. Blame Mike for convincing me to have just one more drink last night. Yeah, right. Head's pounding like I've been headbanging to Slayer all night.

Work was the usual. Rusty old crap people bring in and think I can work miracles on. Had to remind him twice not to fucking touch the tools I just cleaned, but what else is new?

Anyway, she came by the bar tonight. Man, I keep telling myself it's just curiosity, but every time I see her... it's like there's this weird buzz in my head. Like static. Half the time she's just messing with me, and I play it cool, but Mike's grinning like he knows something I don't. Bastard. I caught myself staring again, didn't even realize I was doing it until she looked up. Quick look away like it's nothing, but let's be real, it ain't nothing.

Alright, last thing, 'cause I'm getting tired. Tried writing something decent down here. Maybe for her to see? Hell if I know why I'm even doing this.

"We all act like badasses in our own way,
But we're just screwed up and trying to survive the day.
The ones you can laugh with, drink with, sing with—
Those are the ones worth holding onto. Even if they drive you insane."

Sounds cheesy as hell now that I see it written out. Whatever. It's the thought that counts, right? Maybe I'll just stick to fixing cars and letting her do the singing.