The neon sign outside the sport bar, Grit & Gears, flickered sporadically, casting erratic shadows on the sidewalk. Inside, the place roared with the raucous energy of fans glued to the holographic projection dominating one wall.
Liam Jones sauntered in, his tall frame slicing through the smoky haze of the bar. His entrance turned a few heads; tall, handsome, with a mane of blond hair and piercing blue eyes, he looked like a model that had stumbled into a rough-and-tumble world.
"Oi, Liam!" shouted Matt, a burly man with a beard that looked like it had fought and won against a grizzly. Beside him, Rachel, with her sharp green eyes and an air of effortless cool, raised her drink in a mock toast.
And over by the corner table, Alex, a wiry fellow with an unruly mop of hair, was already animatedly gesturing toward the holographic screen. They were a familiar trio to Liam—each a standout in their own right in the Futurion Defense Force, with skills that ranged from cybernetic enhancements to tactical strategies.
Liam settled in, grabbing a pint from the table. The bar was buzzing, holographic commentators animatedly discussing the match:
"And here we have it, folks! The final showdown between the Underlight Runners and the Horizon Stingers. The Runners are trailing by one point, and the Stingers have just unleashed their star player, Jake "Blaze" Harrington, onto the field. Can the Runners turn this around?"
The hologram flickered with vibrant images of players zooming across the field, their movements so fast they almost seemed to blur together.
The crowd cheered with a fervor that shook the very foundation of the bar. Liam's group was particularly vocal about their support for the Underlight Runners, the underdogs of the season.
"Come on, Runners!" Matt bellowed, lifting his drink as the bar erupted in a chorus of yells and fists pumping in the air.
That's when she appeared.
Liam barely had time to settle in before the scent of something sweet—jasmine, maybe?—hit him. A woman, clearly not the usual bar crowd, sauntered over to their table.
She was tall, dressed in a sleek black dress that hugged her curves in a way that left little to the imagination. Her hair, a deep chestnut, fell in waves down her back. She looked like she belonged on some glossy magazine cover, not in a sports bar reeking of beer and cheap cologne.
Even Alex, usually oblivious to anything but the match, gave a low whistle. "Damn…"
The woman leaned in toward Liam, her voice a sultry purr.
"Hi. I don't usually do this, but I've seen you before… couldn't help but come over."
Liam blinked, caught off guard. Her beauty was undeniable, almost overwhelming. Dark, almond-shaped eyes framed by lashes too long to be real, lips painted a deep crimson. She was the kind of woman most men would trip over themselves to impress.
"Hey, not bad, Liam," Matt teased, elbowing him. "Looks like you've still got it."
Liam forced a smile, but inside, his thoughts were spinning. He could see it—how easy it would be. A drink or two, maybe a laugh. Maybe more. She was beautiful, sure, but as he looked at her, something tugged at the back of his mind.
His thoughts drifted to Rose, waiting back at his apartment. Rose, with her almost-too-perfect features. She wasn't real, and yet... she was there.
The woman in front of him was flesh and blood, and yet, as he compared her to Rose, something didn't sit right. Rose, with her quiet gaze and soft smiles. Rose, with her... no, this was crazy. Rose was just a bot. A machine. She didn't feel, didn't want, didn't think.
But when Liam looked at this woman, with all her human perfection, the thought of taking her up on whatever offer she was about to make...felt wrong.
"I... appreciate it," Liam said, the words sticking in his throat. He leaned back, a polite but firm smile on his face. "But, I'm good. Thanks, though."
The woman blinked, her smile freezing for a second. "Excuse me?" It was clear no one had ever told her no before.
Matt and Alex exchanged glances, trying and failing to suppress their laughter. "Oh, mate. You just said no? To her?"
Rachel smirked, raising her glass. "Damn, Liam, still hung up on the ex? Come on, it's been a month. This was your chance to get back in the game, and you just turned down that?"
Liam shrugged, but inside, his thoughts kept swirling. This woman—this real, tangible woman—felt... less real than Rose. Maybe it was the memory of last night, the way Rose had looked at him, the way she had felt under his hands, the soft glow of her eyes as they flickered to life.
He had been talking to himself earlier that evening in the elevator, swearing he needed a real girlfriend. But now, when the opportunity was staring him in the face, he couldn't do it.
"What can I say?" Liam grinned, his voice light but strained. "Guess I've got a type."
The woman, clearly irritated at being rejected, shot him a glare before walking back to her group, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. The bar swallowed her up in seconds, but not before Alex leaned in, his voice dripping with amusement. "Mate, seriously. What the hell was that?"
Liam gave a half-hearted chuckle, trying to shake it off. "What can I say? I'm a complicated guy."
"Complicated?" Matt shook his head. "Nah, you're still stuck on that breakup. You sure you don't want to give her another call?"
Liam laughed, but it was hollow. His friends didn't know. They wouldn't understand. And maybe... maybe he didn't fully understand it himself.
Just as he was about to respond, the match roared back into focus. The Underlight Runners were pushing hard, trying to equalize, but the Stingers' defense was iron-clad.
"And Harrington has the ball again!" The holographic commentator's voice crackled through the air.
"He's speeding down the field, breaking past the defense—this could be the final blow to the Runners!"