Jill leaned on the bar with a dejected look on her pretty face, her palm against her jaw, and her elbow on the counter. "Henry," she said, "give me another one."

"Jill, you've had two already."

"I don't care, I'm not in the mood to be concerned. Just give me another one."

Henry sighed, then he nodded and filled up another mug of cream soda, putting the straw in it and turning to face her. As he set it down, she said, "Thanks," and then she lifted the straw to her lips and started sipping it.

Henry adjusted his white wedge cap that read 'The Soda Shoppe" on the side of it and went back to cleaning his glasses and mugs again. The store served soda's, candy, coffee, and a few small meals like cereal and oatmeal. It wasn't too big, just a bar and a few booths, but it was a nice place to go to, especially if you were a teenager, to sit for a while and talk to some friends. Jill had been there all morning.

Thoughts of Chris were filling her head. Thoughts of seeing him again last night. She'd cried for about an hour when he'd left her standing there in the lobby, and now she was just drowning her sorrows in a mug of cream soda.

"So, what's eatin' ya, Jill?" Henry asked.

"Nothing," she drew out dejectedly.

"Come on, I've known you since you were five, and you've been coming in here since you were thirteen, so tell me what's wrong."

Grumbling, Jill shrugged, "I saw Chugs again last night."

"Chugs? You mean that low life Chris who left you without a word?"

"Yeah, that's the guy."

"Where is he? When I find him, I'm gonna kill him."

"You'll have to beat me to it," Jill muttered and then sipped her drink again.

"He wasn't trying to crawl back to you, was he?"

"No, actually," she told him once she'd swallowed her drink. "He wasn't even there to see me in the first place."

"Really? That bastard, he could have at least said he was sorry."

Jill snorted. Then she shrugged, "He tried to," and she sat back, "can we get off of this subject though please? I'm trying to forget him, not remember him."

"Alright," Henry nodded, "how's work?"

"Same," Jill smiled, glad for the topic change, "busy and hectic. They're going to be opening auditions soon for some new performers to get in there, so they're doing good since they have enough to pay some more of them." That made Jill happy because it meant should wouldn't be losing her job anytime soon. True, sometimes the customers could get annoying, but it paid her a lot of money, and she'd been able to afford her own place because of it, a feat not many women could say that they'd done, or could do.

"Oh yeah? Why don't you audition? I know you have a good singing voice."

"Only when I'm alone, or not in front of a big crowd," Jill smiled. "Besides, the mob that runs the joint, well, let's just say I'd rather stick to serving."

Henry chuckled, and the bells on the door sounded as someone walked in. Nodding his head to the new customer, Henry asked, "What can I getcha?," while Jill went back to her drink.

"Give me a coke, Henry," came a familiar voice.

Jill looked up at the man and she asked, "Barry?"

Looking down at the woman in the pretty blue dress suit, white socks and hush puppies, Barry smiled from behind his beard, "Jill! Hey! Where've you been?"

Jill stood up and she hugged the man, smiling. Sure, she might've known him through Chris, but she still liked him a lot. She replied, "I could ask you the same thing, ya know?"

"Touche'," Barry smiled. "How are you?"

Jill sat back down, and Barry sat as well, taking his coke and paying for it when he got it. Then he gave Jill his attention. "I'm okay I guess," she replied.

"More like jilted," Henry piped up.

"Hush, Henry," Jill told him, "no comments from the peanut gallery."

Henry laughed and went back to his work.

"Is he right?" Barry asked her.

"Maybe. Just had a bad run in last night, that's all."

Barry sighed, "Chris went back to the club, didn't he?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

Barry shrugged, "It's a long story. Let's just say I overheard him talking to a girl who was presumed missing last night, and she mentioned the club. I think it made him want to go there and check things out."

"Oh," Jill replied simply, she couldn't get out much more than that. "What did the girl tell him that led him back there?"

"I don't know, I just heard her mentioning it to him. Maybe it was someone she saw there, who knows. But I do know that he wasn't in a very good mood this morning."

"Well, good," Jill muttered. Her violet eyes cast down to the floor when she said that.

"He really did hurt you, didn't he?" Barry asked.

"As much as I hate to admit it," she replied without looking at him, "yeah, he did."

"I'll have to have a talk with that boy," Barry stood up, chuckling softly. Then he reached out and tilted her chin up, saying, "Hey, don't worry about it too much. I'm pretty sure everything will be okay."

Jill forced a smile for him and then she nodded. "You gotta go?"

"Yeah, my girls are wanting to go to the park like we do every Sunday. Maybe I'll see you later sometime."

"Yeah, maybe," Jill smiled at him as he went to the door. "Have fun."

"We will," he smirked and left the shop altogether. Jill slouched a little when he left and then went back to her own drink.

What a terrible day, she thought. Sundays were bad anyway in her opinion. So boring and drab. Nothing ever went on. And what made it worse was that she had all the time in the world to think about who she'd seen last night.

Just when she thought she'd gotten over him, he had to go and show up.

He'd been right, she was his Ingrid Bergman. And he left her just like Bogart had.

At least Bogart had a noble reason though, Jill thought, instead of none at all. And that was what hurt the most, not knowing. Not knowing what she'd done, if anything, to make him just leave her like that. Not knowing why he'd wanted to just disappear.

Chris Redfield could just go to hell.