Roland

You arrived at the bar with the Monsters—Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron immediately went to grab a table, leaving the three of you behind. You, Andrew, and Neil made your way to the bar, pushing through the noisy crowd.

It was stuffy inside: the air was thick with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and something sweet, almost cloying. The music was blaring so loudly it vibrated in your chest, and the multicolored lights glided lazily across people's faces.

Andrew, as usual, walked slightly ahead, indifferent to everything going on, Neil kept close by, looking around tensely. You, meanwhile, slowed for a second, examining the bar—too crowded, too loud, but it had its own strange atmosphere.

As you approached the counter, your gaze caught one of the bartenders.

Roland.

He moved confidently and easily, deftly pouring drinks as if it were a natural occurrence. The lamplight fell on his face, highlighting his sharp features, and his eyes flashed with attentiveness, mingled with a hint of weariness. He glanced up for a moment—and your eyes met.