If Regina Mills had to describe herself using one word, she would most likely choose "strong". Not brave, nor fierce, nor badass. Just strong. Because Regina was, indeed, a very strong woman. Ever since she was young she had learn to keep her emotions buried deep inside her soul, remaining a mystery for the rest of the world, who had no idea what the lady had gone through in her life.

She had learnt to deal with all of her problems in a quiet way, never feeling the need to cry them out or seek advice or comfort in others; that was not the way she worked. She didn't believe in emotional breakdowns or motivational speeches, claiming every person should be able to deal with their own monsters one way or another, never thinking she would find herself all curled up in a corner of her bathroom, crying until she ran out of tears.

She tried to remember the last time she felt that way, beaten, broken, defeated, and it surprised her to follow her feelings until another dark night many years ago. She remembered it as if it happened yesterday: how she came home to find her mother crying in the living room, hugging one of her many friends Regina didn't even know the name of; or how she looked at her, red, puffy eyes telling her all the words her mouth was not able to produce because of a loud sobbing; or how Regina herself had started crying, wrapping her arms against her mother's neck, pressing her head against the woman's shoulder.

It was the night Regina received the hardest news she ever had to deal with. It was the night she learnt her father had passed away due to a heart attack. She had reacted in the same way she was reacting now: curled up in a corner, crying in the dark, avoiding any kind of human contact. For the first time in her eighteen years of existence, Regina Mills had been overcome by her emotions; she had felt lost, as if she was in the middle of the ocean, rowing to no direction in particular, losing all hope of ever reaching a safe land.

Regina was not a teenager anymore, but she was still earning that no matter how fast you run, your problems will always end up catching you, no matter how deep down you bury them, your emotions will always find the way out, they will always find the way to break you, just as it was happening that night.

The woman took a glimpse at her reflection in the mirror, her image distorted as an effect of her many tears, still she managed to inspect her ruined makeup, mascara all over her cheeks and the red lipstick long gone.

Alcohol, she thought; she needed alcohol, the more the better.

Regina looked around her almost empty apartment, realizing she hadn't had time to buy herself some whiskey, and she mentally slapped herself for not even having some wine. She should have known better, she should have bought any kind of alcoholic beverage as soon as she moved in, but she had too much in her mind at the time.

She let out a sigh as she roughly dried her tears with the back of her hands. She was not at all in the mood to stand the presence of anyone, and less the presence of a bunch of sweaty, drunk people. But her heart was asking for alcohol, and so she decided to make the effort and strip out of her sweatpants and hoodie, replacing them with back high heels, a long black shirt and a dark green buttoned shirt. She looked at her reflection once again; makeup, she thought, she needed to find a way of erasing any trace of tears left in her face.

Regina let out a sigh before entering the bar, trying to compose herself and to not seem as desperate for alcohol as she actually was. She hated bars, she would rather get drunk on her own and cry, cry as much as she needed with no witnesses in the room. But if it came down to crying alone or drinking, she had it very clear that the answer was always whiskey.

She confidently entered the local, walking towards the counter without even taking a look at the room, she didn't have the time to be interested in the interior design of the pub, she only wanted her drink. She sat in one of the stools and ordered a glass of the better scotch she could get, confidence never leaving her eyes, not even when the barista winked at her while placing a questionably clean glass on the counter, ugh.

"A gorgeous girl on her own is either celebrating or drowning her pains in alcohol. So, which one is it?" Regina closed her eyes for a brief moment and took a sip of her drink. Great, now someone was trying to flirt; crying in the bathroom suddenly seemed a way better idea than alcohol.

"Smooth." She replied without even looking at the girl next to her. She also made sure to use a cod tone, trying to let the woman clear she was only interested in drinking.

"Not my best move, I must agree." The woman chuckled and Regina decided she had already had enough. She moved her head, staring deep down into a couple of shining green eyes that were accompanied by a huge smile. The features of the blonde girl were soft, delicate, beautiful. Regina thought she seemed a few years younger than herself but she also knew that wouldn't have stopped her from joining in her flirting game if she had found herself in a good mood. But she wasn't, too bad for the blondie.

"Are you done flirting?" she scoffed. "Because I'm going through some problems right now and I would like to finish my drink alone." she made sure her voice sounded colder than the last time, rude even.

"Okay," the blonde girl raised her hands as a sign of defeat. "I just thought you would like some company. No one really enjoys drinking alone, right?" I do, Regina thought as the woman gave her another huge, warm smile and grabbed a drink that was now in front of her. She turned around, ready to go back to wherever she had come from.

"Wait." Regina's mouth worked faster than her brain. "Sit down." She found herself saying, not being sure of why she had done it.

Of course the blonde was pretty, and of course Regina felt lonelier that night, but her brain was telling her the night would not end with the woman naked on her bed, she was a bit more refined than that. Then, why did she asked the girl to sit down and why was she ready to buy her a drink? Maybe, Regina thought, she didn't want to feel that lonely, maybe she wanted to give into the illusion of someone caring enough to listen to her, maybe… her brain was not able to process it, not even after several minutes of pleasant and random conversation with the stranger, and maybe, she thought, maybe she would never figure out why she had acted so impulsive that night, when her initial purpose was to isolate herself in her personal bubble, a bubble that was going to be torn apart by a blonde tornado; but neither of the women knew that part yet.