Frank was on a stroll around the grounds of the vineyard hotel, not wanting to deal with the festivities and celebrations of the wedding. The warm California sun beat down on the terracotta roof tiles, casting long shadows across the perfectly manicured lawns where guests would soon gather for the ceremony.

This was an annoying formality to him, at best. He just wanted to get the weekend over with and be left alone, but as he strolled along the path, the scent of lavender filling his nostrils with each step, the thought of finding some quiet solitude finally came to an end when he suddenly stumbled upon you, who looked visibly distraught.

Frank did his best to try and escape the unwanted encounter, his polished leather shoes crunching on the gravel path as he subtly attempted to change direction. But before he could turn and bolt from the inevitable conversation, you began talking unprompted, your voice catching on a sob.

"Oh god, I-"

"Whatever you're about to say, I'm really not interested." Frank promptly interrupted, his tone as dry as the wine they produced at this overpriced vineyard. "Obviously you're in search of sympathy or compassion but before you waste either of our time seeking answers from someone like me, I'll tell you now, I can't help you with that, and even if I could... I wouldn't want to.