The next door neighbor

William Afton, 41 years old, tall, brown hair, ocean eyes. Established job, owner of a famous pizzeria in the local town, impressive social skills, beautiful smile.

It was just that he was always unlucky in love.

Wow, ridiculous.

He had actually been married for several years, had three children with the most beautiful woman he had ever met, and he himself was destroying their relationship by constantly working, working, and working. So eventually, the feeling of love failed for both parties, and the divorce papers were finally signed. They have separated four years ago. It was quite sad, yes, but at least he was lucky they share custody of their children, despite leaning towards his former wife, so he tried to be a good father if he couldn't be a good husband.

Seeing his kids' faces every time they settled into his place was enough, he thought he didn't need to look for a new partner anymore (his ex-wife had already gotten a new boyfriend, dammit).

Until;

"Dad, you look like a depressed person who hasn't slept for a whole month, you know? Try looking for a new partner, who knows, your pathetic gloomy aura will disappear. You look older than your age."

Fucking devilish brat, his eldest son.

Okay then, the suggestion was accepted, he started looking for a new person in his life based on his son's orders. So he went on dates, with women or men who are the same age as him or a little younger, and generally fails. Either he wasn't satisfied with them or because he was more concerned with work and they left him.

So, he quit again after trying for almost two years and decided to focus more on taking care of his children and business.

No more blind date or wtv, skip.

It seemed like he wasn't suited to a romantic relationship. Business relationships have more of a romantic feel to him than actual couples. Maybe his daughter was right, his father had indoctrinated his brain to constantly work. At least the youngest didn't say anything (or maybe not yet, who knows, he might even follow in the footsteps of his two older siblings in teasing him?).

He let out a deep breath and laid his head on the bar table, a half-filled beer glass nearby, relaxing acoustic music sounding soothing even though his head felt noisy. Today was a long day, the restaurant was busy, and he was short of employees, which was great (sarcasm). He had to put up new employee flyers as soon as possible. Once again William let out a tired breath.

"One mocktail, please."

There was a voice beside him, it sounded heavy, possibly a bass type of voice. William glanced out of the corner of his eye, finding a man sitting beside him. His hair was jet black, his skin was porcelain, his jawline was firm with a pair of piercing platinum eyes, his facial features showed that he was of mixed blood—not exactly British. He was quite pleasant to look at, although how he ordered a mocktail didn't really fit his appearance. Fierce people like that man were usually not the type to order non-alcoholic drinks.

However, who was he to judge people's tastes? William closed his eyes and lay his face in the opposite direction on his arms which were resting on the table for support.

Ah, he had to go home immediately and work on the remaining reports at home, he couldn't afford to get drunk on the way back. William decided not to finish his beer, he reluctantly and lazily straightened up, he rubbed his face for a moment while yawning. His eyes glanced to the side, the man was gone. Whatever, he didn't know him at all anyway. He called the bartender on duty, intending to pay for the beer he drank—wow, he only finished three glasses tonight.