Our mistakes and choices we made.

Or chances we take, without thinking it through.

Descant in that tiny little pub was surely something you relished doing every so often. You had been holding a small whiskey glass while twirling and singing like a teenager. A neat glinting lamplight, with lights that swirl continuously much like you and the men who played their instruments, round and round, for so long that you practically spun around the world.

The dark red carpet may have been scarcely stained with beer and splashes of liquor, and the skirting boards coated in dust, but the streetside walk-in bar had been a good refuge for the incoming dark, merciless rain, that was appallingly popular in Marley.

Three men had entered the bar, two more excited than the other. These three men were very familiar to you, one tall and blonde with a sharply carved nose and rough stubble, one blond with hazel eyes and a rough attitude, and finally a tall blonde newly turned.

He was always accompanied by the lanky blonde who had a bright cherry smile that could illuminate the room. This trio always sat on the far left of the bar, along the shorter section of the pub desk itself.

Reiner always accompanied Porco and Colt after their missions. A drink to unwind they said, a chance to find love and peace.. .at a bar. He abhorred the idea though, what could you possibly find at a place like this besides pain and drunkenness? He only ever came to become a drunken man and possibly have a few moments of peace where he wasn't feeling the urge to sulk and perish at his own hands.

Porco often encouraged him to find someone to 'distract' him from his thoughts. He called Reiner a depressed sack of manure who needed to let go of all his baggage and bloom, though it was easier said than done. He didn't exactly want to hurt yet another person with his indecision and broken personality.

Though he did find solace in this bar. Just hearing the person who sang made him feel less tension and more at ease with his being.

Such a neat piece had to offer a square passage of hard floor separate from the covering, which was the perfect size and material for dancing and performing. This is where you and your team stood as you'd danced considering it was seemingly a great way of warming up to contrast the gloomy and frigid nature of this town. Even the weather had been mirroring Marley's ever-decreasing frugality and disposition of life.

"Okay come on we have one more song left!", a man sitting on a tiny makeshift drum set shouted causing you to prance over to a microphone.

"Yeah yeah, just a second," you muttered, racking your brain for the name of that one song that you can't quite place. After a few beats and the clicking of your tongue, the soft dingle of the creaky chairs being pulled reflects the epiphany you experienced, remembering the track.

Looking anywhere other than the drunken men who stared at you with promiscuous eyes, the bar stole your gaze, where middle-aged men sit, forward-facing, clearly entirely unbothered by your escapades. Although some turned their heads at the sound of cowbells ringing and you clear your throat.

Spanning the cord further than it's ever been tested, you sway and twirl while you sing as you lock eyes with a finely dressed man, one whose hair was shortly trimmed leaving tiny bangs to hang. It was only for a few minutes before you veered your gaze, yet he discarded his hat and continued watching hoping you'd gift him with a beautiful sight to behold once more.

Exhaling you begin to sing the familiar lyrics that slid off your tongue so skillfully. A song you had fallen in love with, a song of distilled love that nudged you so on edge while you continued to fight for whatever leftover piece of love they could scavenge for.

"Let's give ourselves some time... to start again", you whispered and peeked around the bar for some kind of excuse, yet your eyes fell on a new figure you had seen just seconds ago. He sat on the closest bar stool to you with his head lounging on a pale hand, his other arm clasping a glass of what you presumed to be gin and tonic. His promising posture and poise ring slightly intimidating, especially when lovely hazel circles gaze bemusedly at you, in a side-eye, commending a sculpted face.