I flicked the cigarette aside and turned toward my car, my mind already racing through worst-case scenarios. Drunk, alone, emotional, and wandering around the city in the middle of the night. Nothing about that combination ended well.

Just as I was about to reach the car, I heard the door behind me creak open again.

"Hey, bro!"

I turned back. It was the same guy from inside, the one with the mop. He stepped out, wiping his hands on his pants before gesturing for me to come back.

"Can you show me the photo again?" he asked.

I didn’t waste time. I went there, unlocked my phone and pulled up Ivy’s profile picture, holding it out to him. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

He leaned in, squinting slightly as the rain dotted his beard.

"Mm..." he hummed, tilting his head. "Nah... wait. Yeah. Something’s off."

"What do you mean?" I asked, stepping closer.

"They were dead drunk," he said, shaking his head. "Like, barely standing. In that chaos, the girl who broke up the fight grabbed someone else and rushed into the taxi. This girl... what was her name again?"

"Ivy."

"Yeah, Ivy didn’t get in."

For a second, everything just... clicked into place.

My grip on the phone tightened slightly.

"Oh... fuck me."

Her friend wasn’t lying. She really thought Ivy came with her. They were both too drunk to even notice the mix-up. She even told me that this supposed ’Ivy’ acted like she didn’t recognize her... because she wasn’t Ivy. Fuuck me.

Which meant Ivy was left behind.

Alone. Drunk. Right after a fight.

"Can you tell me what she did after that?" I asked quickly. "Which direction she went?"

He shook his head. "Nah, man. I went back inside right after things calmed down. Didn’t pay attention after that."

"Shit..." I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "Did anyone record it? The fight, I mean. Everyone love fights."

He gave a small nod. "Yeah. People were all over it. Phones out, recording like it was a damn concert. Our bartender even sent me a video. Hold on."

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling. I leaned in slightly, the rain tapping against both of us as he found the clip.

"Here."

He turned the screen toward me.

The video started shaky, clearly recorded by someone standing in the middle of the crowd. The music in the background was loud, bass heavy, but it was drowned out by shouting.

The place had been packed.

People were circling around a small open space near the bar, forming that classic ring whenever something went down. Some were yelling, some laughing, some just watching like it was entertainment.

And in the middle of it... Ivy.

Her hair was a mess, strands sticking to her face. Her movements were unsteady, her balance barely holding. She was arguing with another woman, who looked just as drunk but a hell of a lot louder.

"You’re just like him!" the woman shouted, jabbing a finger toward Ivy. "Helping that psycho! You think you’re innocent?"

"I didn’t..." Ivy tried to speak, her words slurring, her voice cracking.

"Bullshit!" the woman cut her off, stepping closer. "You stayed with him! That makes you just as guilty! My friend is dead because of you!"

"Hey, back off," another girl stepped in, grabbing Ivy’s arm and pulling her slightly back. That had to be her friend.

But Ivy wasn’t backing down. Even in that state, even barely standing straight, she was trying to push forward again.

"I said I didn’t know!" she snapped, her voice rising, shaking with something deeper than anger.

The crowd reacted instantly. Some cheered, some laughed, others just lifted their phones higher.

The tension snapped fast.

The other woman lunged first, and everything turned into chaos.

People shouted. Someone knocked into a table. A glass shattered somewhere off-screen. The camera jerked wildly as the person recording tried to keep up.

Ivy’s friend jumped in immediately, grabbing her, trying to pull her back, but Ivy struggled against her, still shouting, still trying to reach the other woman.

Then the bouncer forced his way through the crowd.

"Enough!" he barked, pushing people aside with ease.

He grabbed the aggressive woman first, dragging her back, while Ivy’s friend tightened her hold and started pulling Ivy toward the exit.

"Come on!" her friend said, almost dragging her at this point.

The camera followed them toward the door. Rain was visible outside, pouring just like it was now.

A taxi pulled up.

The bouncer shoved the other woman in the opposite direction while Ivy’s friend rushed forward. In the chaos, with people still yelling and pushing behind them, everything became a blur.

And that was when it happened.

I slowed my breathing as I watched closely. Her friend grabbed someone else in that chaos. Another drunk woman. Similar height, similar build, just as drunk, stumbled with her and got pulled into the taxi.

The door slammed shut.

The taxi drove off.

Then the video ended.

"Shit..." I muttered under my breath, straightening up.

"She really didn’t get in," the guy said, pocketing his phone.

"Yeah..." I replied, my mind already spinning. "She didn’t."

That changed everything.

She wasn’t safe. She wasn’t with her friend. She was somewhere out there, drunk, emotional, and completely alone.

"Any idea where she could’ve gone?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

He shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. But I’d check another bar if I were you."

"Another bar?"

"Yeah," he nodded toward the street. "There’s one just across the road, near that gas station. Smaller place."

"You think she went there?"

"Our bartender said she had like seven or eight beers," he said. "If she was in that state, she might’ve wanted more."

I exhaled slowly, looking toward the direction he pointed.

Not a great lead. But it was something.

"Alright," I said, giving a small nod. "Thanks, man. Really."

"No problem, bro. Again, though, hope you find her."

"Yeah," I muttered, already turning toward my car. "Me too."