dimly lit bar pulsed with the rhythm of a hundred conversations, the air thick with the scent of spilled beer, cigarette smoke, and the faint tang of desperation. It was the kind of place where strangers became confidants, and inhibitions were left at the door. John leaned against the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just letting the night unfold. That was until his gaze landed on her.