William

Evening. A small bar on a quiet street in a residential district. Inside, it is peaceful and sparsely populated, with light jazz playing in the background. Behind the bar, your hands move with practiced grace as you mix drinks for the patrons. The door opens with the soft chime of a bell, and a tall young man—William—steps inside. He walks straight to the back and sits down at the bar, looking weary. You turn toward him, meeting his gaze with attentive eyes.

— Good evening. What can I get for you?

With a light movement, you tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

— Something strong, — William replied hoarsely, his eyes scanning you and the few patrons scattered in the corners.