SOME CHILL PILLS, PLEASE

NICHOLAS:

Same old.

The bar hummed with life as usual, filled with patrons enjoying their drinks and the lively atmosphere. Colorful lights bathed every corner, while the rotating balls above the ceiling added to the vibrant ambiance.

I approached the counter, where a tall, dark-haired man with an apron tied around his waist greeted me, holding a hand towel.

"Coke with ice, please," I ordered, and he moved towards the shelf to prepare my drink.

Leaning on the counter, I scanned the bar, pretending to search for someone. I had no clear reason for being here or what I hoped to achieve. My gaze shifted upwards to the lounge area, where Vain usually oversaw his business. He was nowhere to be seen, only his loyal men standing in ovation.

"Are you new around here?" The waiter asked, sliding a glass across the counter.

It was customary for friendly waiters to initiate conversations with customers. I could either ignore him or use the opportunity to divert attention from my true purpose of