December 31st. 11:02 PM The Sidestreet Pub, Fargo North Dakota The air was thick with acrid cigarette smoke, and the floating aftertaste of Irish whiskey. The mumblings of couples, drunkards, college students, and the lonely echoed against the old wooden walls, and gave a humble alternative when compared to the bitter winds outside. The temperature outside measured in at negative sixty with the wind. It wasn't often one could spit, and watch it bounce when it hit the ground... but these were the winters in North Dakota. It was nearly a no man's land compared to the rest of North America. Rivaling Canada on it's worst days. It was exactly why Isaiah had picked it. Far enough away from people, but still close enough to be lost in a small crowd. Sitting at the bar, Isaiah swirled his glass gently, and watched the brown liquid churn with a consistency he admired. Whiskey never changed. It was always the same. He often wondered why more things couldn't be like whiskey. Things would be much simpler. The idea of comparing the world, life, and heaven to alcohol was rather laughable, but these past years hadn't been deserving of a higher grading system. "If only..." the young man said softly, as he took another drink from his glass, letting it's contents coat his throat with a creeping warmth. The sensation tugged at his cheeks, and subconsciously made him smile. The old man who'd found him wandering I29 in the middle of winter four years ago, had shown him a lot about humans, but in Isaiah's opinion... Whiskey had been the best. Everyone had a brand they called a "Smiling Whiskey." It had seemed that, the renegade angel had found his. "Yo, Isaiah! Set time is coming up. You going to sing us into the new year or what, dawg?" Lifting his eyes from the bar counter, the large fat form of Mike leaned against the counter. Which protested with an audible groan. "Plenty of ass to be had tonight. Never seen such a den of skank or vixenry!" Mike then laughed. Proud of his spin on a famous Star Wars quote. Isaiah set his glass down, and took a deep breath. Writing had always been his passion. Singing however was doing a great deal to comfort his creative outlets. Jacob Destor, the failing musician who'd welcomed Isaiah into him, granting him a vessel was truly talented though he lacked the confidence to truly succeed. It could have been viewed as a symbiotic relationship, but both were truly living through each other. Living for the first time. "Yeah, Mike. It's definitely going to be a night to remember. I'll get set up." Isaiah answered, and stood up from his bar stool. Not knowing the irony of the words he'd just spoke. But who would have known? Only God.