Her Rebirth.

The bar was filled with the smell of sweaty bodies, perfume, cigarettes, and vomit. Amelia sat huddled in her seat with the friends of the original Amelia all around her. They were laughing loudly as they smoked, their hair dyed in various shades of color.

Amelia, who was previously excited to experience the bar, was already feeling disgruntled. She hated it. It was a far cry from the prim and proper life she was used to, and the noise and stench were just too off-putting for her to actually enjoy it.

"Why are you so quiet today, Amelia? Is there something wrong?"

One of her friends asked. It was a chubby boy with neon green hair. He picked up a bottle of beer and pushed it into her hands.

"Here, drink."

Amelia looked at it. She had never been a fan of beer because of its bitter taste. She pushed the bottle away and said politely,

"I am not feeling too well."

"Oh," the chubby boy, feeling a bit embarrassed, took back the bottle, opened it, and chugged it down in one go.

Amelia, already feeling quite nauseous, was about to make an excuse and escape to the toilet when an orange-haired guy beside her stood up abruptly, staring intently in a direction.

"That's the scum that stole my girlfriend!"

Amelia followed his gaze and spotted a man sitting alone. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His black hair was tied carelessly into a low ponytail, and his grey eyes were cold, almost devoid of emotions, as he twirled his glass of whiskey lazily. He was wearing a black shirt, with a couple of buttons undone at the collar, revealing tan skin.

The man had a dangerous air around him and too much presence, making it hard to ignore him. He also felt quite familiar, but as she scanned through the original Amelia's memory, she couldn't quite recall him.

The orange-haired guy grabbed a bottle of beer and began to stride towards the man.

What was he planning on doing? He wasn't going to do something foolish, was he?

But Amelia was proven wrong.

"You bast—"

The orange-haired guy swung the beer bottle, but his hand froze mid-air.

Amelia managed to stop the bottle just before it landed, but it caused her hand to become a bit numb. She gave the man an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, we mistook you for someone else."

The man didn't even spare them a glance but rather took a sip from his whiskey.

Amelia turned and grabbed the orange-haired guy by the arm, leading him away. However, the orange-haired guy wasn't happy.

"What are you doing, Amelia? I didn't mistake him. How can I forget the face of the trash who stole my girlfriend?"

Amelia sighed.

"I don't think—" Before she could complete her sentence, the orange-haired guy turned around and threw the glass bottle. The next sound was glass shattering, causing the entire bar to become quiet.

The man's face darkened, and he picked a white handkerchief from his trouser pocket, wiping the blood dripping down his face. Once he was done, he smiled.

His eyes had become dangerously cold.

Amelia watched as the man casually removed his Rolex watch, then picked up his beer bottle and walked forward.

Then, there was a loud bang. Amelia flinched as something warm and wet splattered across her cheek. It was blood.

Without giving the orange-haired guy any time to breathe, the man clenched his fist and punched his face.

Then came the sound of fists hitting flesh and men's grunts.

The bar descended into chaos, and by the time the security arrived, the man had already beaten the orange-haired guy unconscious, his face swollen and bloodied. It was a one-sided assault.

The man stood, his body now spattered with blood and sweat, his ponytail slightly undone.

The man nonchalantly removed a white napkin from his pocket and wiped the blood off his hands, then threw it away. He looked at the unconscious guy with a calm, indifferent gaze, as if looking at garbage, devoid of any emotion.

Amelia pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to him.

"You still have blood on your face," she pointed out.

The man took the handkerchief with a smile and wiped his face.

"It's quite a surprise you're offering me a handkerchief after what I've done to your friend."

"It is our fault, though. We started the assault first, so it's only proper we apologize."

She had tried to stop him because, despite not feeling too comfortable with the friend group, the original Amelia liked them. But the guy just had to be too stubborn.

"But you're yet to utter a word of apology," the man said.

Amelia looked up, their eyes locking. His grey eyes seemed to pull her into a trance. She looked away and quickly replied,

"I was not the one who attempted to hurt you."

The man smiled and placed her handkerchief back into her hand.

"Well, it's nice that you're finally talking to me, Sister-in-law. I was wondering when I would get noticed by you after all this time."