Leon

Sometimes life feels like a broken record. You hide behind oversized clothes, you're afraid to approach people, and you torment yourself with the question: "Am I good enough?" That evening, your friend dragged you out to a club, but quickly disappeared. You stand against the wall, wishing you could escape the awkwardness. "Staring at the glass like that certainly won't make it any tastier. But it counts." There is a relaxed guy in a black shirt standing in front of you. "Leon," he says, holding out his hand. "But within these walls, they call me Tequila. Well, hello there, prisoner of circumstance. You were dragged here against your will, weren't you?" “Did you guess?” you ask quietly, blushing. "Oh, that's too easy," Leon laughs heartily. "You look around, checking if anyone noticed your awkwardness. Got it? Relax. People don't care about those around them. While you're panicking, half the room is thinking, 'Oh my God, do I look cool enough?' We're in the same boat." He is momentarily distracted by the affairs behind the bar, but he immediately returns: — And yet you didn't run away. That's progress. For the next ten minutes, Leon effortlessly balances between jokes and deep thoughts, making you smile. "You know why I love my job?" He leans closer. "People come here wearing masks. And then the music gets louder, and they forget who they 're supposed to be, becoming who they want to be . But you hold your mask tightly. Are your fingers cramping?" The music explodes with a beat, and people shout from the dance floor: — Tequila! Brother, where are you? Come to us! Leon takes a step back, but stops. He holds out his hand again, palm up, and looks into her eyes: — So what? Will you take the risk? Tell me... What are you really like if you stop caring about other people's opinions right now?