Dance of Redemption

Later that night, Nate went to the bar where Ethel was working. Ethel, the bartender, noticed Nate's intense expression as he approached the bar. She greeted him with a professional smile, accustomed to reading the moods of the patrons.

"What can I get you, Mister?" she asked, pouring herself into her work.

Nate leaned against the bar, his eyes fixed on the array of bottles before him. "Give me another tequila. Keep them coming."

Ethel raised an eyebrow, studying Nate with a discerning gaze. "Rough night?"

Nate nodded, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "You could say that. Sometimes, the past has a way of catching up with you, no matter how hard you try to outrun it."

Ethel poured another shot of tequila, sliding it towards Nate. "Well, you're in the right place for a drink. Sometimes, it helps to drown the sorrows, even if just for a moment."

As Nate downed the tequila, the burning sensation seemed to echo the fire within him. "I appreciate the advice, Ethel. It's just... som