Jun 2, 2016
“Ten bucks says the Penguins win this one too,” he said, muttering to the person nearest to him--the unlucky patron of the night. New to the area, Niko was only familiar with two places: his house and the bar. Three days in, he’d already spent close to twenty hours on a bar stool he’d claimed as his own drinking scotch until closing time and chatting up whatever poor stranger that wound up sitting within earshot. Today was no different. The alpha had a row of empty glasses lined up, leading to his mostly full current drink and they all were temporary distractions from the hockey game playing on the t.v. overhead.
