After a long shift, Evelyn found herself somehow being able to climb up onto a bar stool over at The Mountaineer. She reached up and released her bun (which had turned messy over the course of 10 hours) and ran her hands through her brown locks. “Vodka and cranberry, please.” She called out to the bartender, resting her elbows onto the bar ledge and her head into her hands. Not even bothering to look up when her drink was sat down in front of her or even when she heard someone take a seat beside her.














