Delphine was never sloppy when she drank too much. She always made sure to keep the texts to a bare minimum—only using her phone in an emergency. But at 7:52 pm tonight, she received a call while working on her most recent graduate research project: the effects of parasites on cloned stem cells. When her professor assigned it, she thought it was a joke. If it's a cloned cell, wouldn't a parasite affect it in a fashion that was identical to the cells that were being cloned? When she brought this up to her professor, Dr. Leekie, he said "probably, but we should still test it, just in case." Who was Delphine to question one of the smartest men on the planet?

"Hi Frank," Delphine answered the call at 7:52 pm. "You haven't called in a few days, I was beginning to worry." She smiles even though he can't see her.

"Delphine…" he begins. "We need to talk."

"Yeah? Okay. Is everything all right?" She worries.

"There's no easy way to put this," Frank said.

Silence. She knew instantly.

"This long distance thing was never going to work out."

Silence. Tears welling up.

"You and I both know it was bound to end sooner or later."

She loves him so much, she feels her heart sinking into her stomach.

"Delphine? Are you there? I'm so sorry, but I really think this is for the best. For both of us. Your future there is so bright, and you should stay. My life is here though, and I feel it's best for me to remain here."

"I thought…" She could barely get the words out. "You told me I was your life."

"I know. I'm so sorry." He too was at a loss for words. After dating for a year and 10 months, the two of them felt optimistic about being a sea apart for a few months until Frank could find a job in Minnesota, where Delphine was studying for her doctorate. "Please say something," he said.

Delphine hung up. No. This is not happening. This is a cruel, sick joke. The room spun around her when she stood up and grabbed her coat. Wiping the tears from her cheek, she walked out of her apartment, hailed a cab, and was driven to a dive bar a few blocks away. No way in hell she was walking in this torrential downpour.

Dawkins' Bar wasn't the cleanest bar she's ever been to, but at this point Delphine didn't care. She wanted to get as wasted as possible and pass out, forgetting Frank and the past two years she spent with him.

"What'll it be, princess?" The man at the bar gave Delphine a sassy but playful look.

"Please don't call me that."

"Ouch. Someone got hurt today. Here, I'll get you a shot of our finest. On the house."

Delphine was shocked. "Thank you…"

"No problem. The name's Felix by the way."

"Thank you, Felix." She knocked back the freshly poured shot. "Another, please. I'll pay."

"The hell you will," he half-jokingly replied. One shot, two shots, three shots, a fourth. A larger, buff man with tattoos, a leather jacket, and a handlebar mustache sat next to Delphine and tried to ask for her number.

"Oi!" Felix called out at him when he saw the act unfold. "She's not into you. She's having a bad night. Piss off you wanker." The man growled and stumbled off.

"Thankyou." Delphine's words were starting to slur. "I'm should delete his phone. From my phone." Delphine felt her legs for her phone. She pulled it out and threw it onto the bar. She squinted, confused. How many shots have I had? She tried to remember. I remember four. Felix, how many shots have I had? She looked at Felix.

"Love, you're staring," Felix said.

"I asked you question." Delphine said.

"No, you didn't."

"Oh shit!" Delphine keeled over the bar hysterically laughing. "I THOUGHT you a question! Hah! That's the best!" She suddenly stopped and sharply inhaled. "Felix. How many have I drank."

"I stopped counting after seven." He smiled.

"Shit! I'm okay though, I deleted his phone."

"You deleted his number, sweetie."

"Right. I should call him."

"No! You shouldn't! You're done with that asshole." Felix recalled what Delphine probably forgot, she told him the whole story and Felix thinks she could definitely do way better. "You deleted his phone," he said, laughing to himself.

"I remember his number. 555-2482. Or maybe it was 555…4282? I'll try that one first." Felix rolled his eyes and gave up. It's her problem anyways. He tended to a cute boy sitting across the bar.

Delphine dialed the second number. No answer. Come on, pick up you stupid merde. She redialed. Still no answer. Damn him, how dare he ignore me! One more time, she dialed. This time, an answer. But it was not Frank.

"Hello?" Said the voice on the line. It was a woman's.

"Where is Frank?" Delphine asked.

"I think you have the wrong number, I don't know a Frank."

"Bull SHIT!" Everyone in the bar looked at the blonde. She didn't notice. "I demand Frank! He made a mistake! Long distance works and he's wrong about it. We BELONG together! Can you tell him that please," Delphine was surprised she could form a somewhat coherent phrase.

"Oh boy. Are you drunk?" The mystery woman asked.

"NNNnnnnnope. Yeah I am."

"Listen, I don't know who Frank is, but he sounds like a real tool. If I ever meet him, I'll kick his ass for you. Deal?"

"You're so sweet. This isn't Frank though. I called Frank. Where is he?" The confusion returned.

"You're right, I'm not Frank. My name is Cosima." Delphine took in a large breath.

"What a pretty name!" She exclaimed. Cosima laughed, her tongue barely poking through her teeth.

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Delphine."

"You have a very pretty name too," Cosima was enjoying this encounter way too much.

"You're already better than Frank," Delphine's head was down on the bar at this point, her stomach still felt warm, her brain started to feel tired.

"Thank you," Cosima said. "But it seems like it doesn't take much to be better than Frank."

"Yes," Delphine laughed. "You're really right. I feel very scared. I don't know how to get home from this bar and I alone."

"Can you call a taxi?" Cosima was genuinely worried for this woman's safety. She was in a fragile state.

"Do you live in Minnesota like I do?" Delphine's warm stomach started turning into a nauseous stomach.

"I do, actually. What bar are you at, I can help you out." Cosima felt a little sketched out by the whole situation but the woman on the other end seemed legitimate and Cosima always was up for helping people out.

"Dawkins," Delphine suddenly realized she was talking to a complete stranger on the phone. What the hell, Delphine! How stupid are you? You just told a stranger where you are, you're going to get yourself killed!

"Funny thing, Delphine. I live right above that bar. I'll come find you, okay? Hang tight." Cosima was grabbing her bright red coat when—

"Wait. How do I know this isn't a trap? What if you hurt me or lead me to someone to hurt me?" Delphine was starting to feel anxious. This whole night was a horrible idea. She couldn't stand on her own, she didn't remember how to get home, and now a random person was coming to help her. She felt stupid but she was also too drunk to care. Whatever happens to me, I probably deserve it. She thought of the worse as she awaited the mystery woman's arrival.