"What's the matter Sarah? Did I make your drink wrong again?"

I couldn't bring myself to smile at his joke. Sam had been making my weekly martini for as long as I could remember. Every time I was upset with work or just feeling down, he'd make the same joke. Usually we could laugh about it until whatever was bothering me was a distant memory. But not tonight.

Sam noticed my lack of response. Over 50 years as a bartender had made him an expert at reading people. He opened his mouth to speak again, but an obnoxious drunk at the end of the bar started yelling for another round. With a last glance in my direction, Sam headed down to preserve the peace.

I watched him from under my lashes. Sam had always been good to me. After my parents died in a helo crash 20 years back, Sam had acted like a kind of surrogate father to me, despite the fact that he was several years younger than me. He'd told me once that he'd never been married, had always been married to his work. A fact I found surprising, as he was ridiculously handsome. Wavy black hair, strong features, and an adorably crooked smile. I always felt so plain next to him with my plain brown hair and indistinct features.

Sam finished with the drunk guy and headed back towards me. I took a sip of my drink and waited until he stopped in front of me. It took all the courage I had to look into his stormy gray eyes.

"It's tomorrow, isn't it?" he asked, placing a rough, callused hand over mine.

I nodded, unable to speak through the tears that were forming. Tomorrow, was my 100th birthday. Considering all the medical advancements now available in the year 3015, it was like turning 25 used to be in the 21st century. However, because people were now living longer, well over 200 in some cases, the government had passed a law, mandating that all citizens are required to self-terminate on their 100th birthday. They said it was to control overpopulation, but that was total crap. Our state ambassador to the Federation of the United Nations had just celebrated his 150th birthday. The party was even aired on national TV.

"Sarah," he sighed. There was no pity in his eyes, no understanding. There was just sorrow, anger, and what looked like regret. "What can I do?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "There's nothing anyone can do." I gulped down the rest of my drink in one swallow, gasping a little as the alcohol burned down my throat. "Thank you Sam. For everything."

"Sarah, I didn't do anything special," he began, averting his eyes. I gripped his hand tight, forcing him to look at me again.

"I mean it Sam," I said desperately. I needed him to know, needed him to understand. "You've been there for me ever since my parents died, and I need you to know how much that meant to me." I squeezed his hand one last time. On impulse, I leaned over to the bar and kissed his cheek. It was a little rough, like he had forgotten to shave that morning. He smelled of sweat and toothpaste. He'd gotten some on his collar again. I smiled. I breathed in his scent, committing it to memory. I leaned back and looked into his eyes again.

"Take care Sam," I whispered. I laid a credit chip on the bar to pay for my drink and turned and walked away. I didn't look back.

On the walk home, I finally stopped holding back the tears, letting them mingle with the rain that was pouring from the black velvet sky. This was it. This was my last night. Tomorrow, was my 100th birthday. Considering all the medical advancements now available in the year 3015, it was like turning 25 used to be in the 21st century. However, because people were now living longer, well over 200 in some cases, the government had passed a law, mandating that all citizens are required to self-terminate on their 100th birthday. They said it was to control overpopulation, but that was total crap. Our state ambassador to the Federation of the United Nations had just celebrated his 150th birthday. The party was even aired on national TV.

I stopped outside of my apartment building to wipe dry my eyes. The last thing I needed was to talk about it more. I waved to Jesse, the doorman, asked Laura, the desk attendant, how her night was going, then proceeded to the elevator and pushed the button for the 5th floor.