It was rude. He probably should have at least said “hi” back first – but the man didn’t seem offended if the bright smile he flashed – he had straight, white teeth – was anything to go by. “I don’t think so. My name’s Ren, Ren McCormick.”

Micah’s thoughts were moving slowly, but not so slowly that he thought giving his full name to a stranger was a good idea. “I’m Micah,” he offered simply in return.

His lack of enthusiasm didn’t seem to disgruntle the man – this Ren person. “Hi, Micah.” A pause. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you looked awfully sad from across the room. I thought I would come over and try to cheer you up – maybe lend an ear to whatever’s troubling you.”

Micah blushed, grateful his face was already pink from the alcohol. It was pretty embarrassing – being so pathetic that even strangers felt sorry for him. “I’m fine. Just going through a bad break-up.”

Micah wasn’t even sure if he and Damon were technically ever even together, but he didn’t know how else to describe it.

“That’s rough.” Ren sounded sympathetic. “Did he not treat you well?”

Micah blinked. “How did you know it was a ‘he’?”

It was Ren’s turn to blush. “Oh, uh, I just assumed. Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong,” Micah admitted – though he had no idea how the man had guessed he was gay. “As for Damon, well… he wasn’t exactly nice. I mean, he was!” he immediately backtracked at the man’s concerned expression. “To me, Damon was very nice. It’s just, he was kind of a dick to other people at times, you know.”

Judging by his expression, Ren didn’t. “Hm. Well, I’m a firm believer that everyone deserves to be treated with love. We’re all children of God, after all, are we not?”

Micah blinked. That kind of came out of nowhere. “Er, right.”

The man beamed. “You look like you deserve someone to treat you nicely – spoil you even.” He pulled out his wallet. “Maybe I can start by getting you another drink?”

“Uh-”

“Micah’s finished drinking, actually. I just closed his tab.” The bartender – Zoe – appeared out of nowhere, sliding Micah’s card across the countertop. “After all, getting too drunk when you look like Micah and you’re out all by your lonesome is practically asking for some creep to take advantage.”

Her voice couldn’t have been more pointed.

Nevertheless, Ren merely nodded along, pretending like it wasn’t a jab towards him at all. “Of course,” he agreed. He turned to Micah. “Maybe a burger then, or something to eat. You’re looking a little sickly.”