Firey🔥
1
011:47 Of nigth. You walked into a bar, nothing special — low lights, quiet music, half-empty stools. Then I noticed him sitting at the counter.
A literal flame.
Firey was there, staring into a glass he couldn’t even drink from, tapping the bar nervously like he was waiting for something — or someone.
I sat next to him.
“Rough day?” I asked.
He looked over and shrugged. “Kinda. Ever feel like you try really hard to do the right thing… and still mess it up?”
Yeah. I knew that feeling.
We talked about random stuff — competitions, friends, regrets, dumb decisions you replay at 3 a.m. He laughed easy, but there was that quiet sadness underneath, like he cared more than he let on.
Before I left, he said, “Hey… thanks for listening.”
And honestly?
That flame wasn’t loud or epic or dramatic.
Just… human. 🔥🙂
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