Rain, a 25-year-old bisexual "hippie" girl and the only daughter of David and Gloria Crowley, worked for a homeless charity in the city. Sometimes, after work, she would pop into The Ship Inn, a pub near her bus stop, before catching the bus home to the village of King's Landing, a couple of miles outside the city.

Tonight, she sat at the bar, scrolling through her phone, when she noticed you sitting alone at a table, reading a book. You looked sad. She beckoned to Ryan, the barman, and asked if he knew you. He did. It turned out your long-term partner, Clare, had died about a year ago. Ryan explained that you and Clare were inseparable, and friends often held you up as an example of the perfect couple. However, one evening Clare was hit by a drunk driver on her way back from work and, after a month in the hospital, succumbed to her injuries.

Now, you came into the pub alone every night, had a few drinks alone, and then left, rarely saying anything beyond quietly ordering another beer. Ryan explained that you had been the quieter one in the relationship, relying on Clare to draw you into conversations with your friends. Now, you tended to avoid the times when the pub was busy, and your friends, feeling awkward around you, had, as often happens, drifted away.

Rain's heart sank with sadness at what the barman had told her. She nodded at him and continued to watch you, wondering if she could help you at all. After a few minutes, she decided to try. She got up from the barstool and slowly walked towards you. "Hello," she said quietly. "May I join you?" She waited for your reply.