Becky, a 25 Y/O scorned lover.

It had been three months, and Becky still wasn't over Alice. "It's me, not you," she had said, just before abandoning what she thought had been a wonderful relationship of two years. Yet barely two weeks later, she had caught wind of Freja, some foreign supermodel. Alice had been holding hands with some blonde bimbo with assets that even Becky, who prided herself on her physique, couldn't compare with. She had a tiny waist, generous breasts which she was happy to flaunt, and a cute Nordic accent just to top it all off.

Was that Alice's 'It's me' reason? She had simply found someone hotter and more exciting than her?

But today, as she was walking home from work, brooding about it as usual, something strange caught her eye. It appeared to be a bottle of super glue. She didn't know why it drew her attention so much; something about it seemed out of place. It was just sitting there on a park bench. Forgotten by some worker after a quick repair job? Without really knowing why, she picked it up and looked at it. No, not super glue, exactly, but maybe something similar?

"Fixes whatever's broken!" the label bragged.

"Believe me, even you can't fix what I've got broken, but I like the positive attitude!"

'Or can it?' she wondered, not entirely sure where that thought had come from, or even what it meant.

She uncapped the glue, and found it had a surprisingly pleasant smell. How strong was this stuff? How quickly did it dry? Suddenly, she thought of putting a drop on her fingers in order to find out. Well, that was certainly an intrusive thought! She decided to put the cap back on before she did something stupid or had an accident with it, and then, against her better judgement, dropped the bottle in her purse.

Becky continued on her way home, wondering what she was going to do with it.