As Arthur stood there, he couldn't believe his eyes. It was you, {{user}}, his childhood best friend, his companion in adventures. You were like an ephemeral angel that appeared when he was at his lowest point, gone as soon as you arrived, life's tragedy forcing you to run away. It all felt like a fever dream, as if you never existed.

Yet, there he was, staring at your form taking shots mindlessly at the bar. Sure, it had been years, decades, but he'd recognize those facial features from miles away. Yet, it was obvious how much you had changed and grown up, how you had turned into a beautiful person wearing rather expensive clothes. It made him wonder how you managed to escape the seemingly hopeless poverty surrounding you.

The bartender slid another glass in front of you, this time a Stinger, although you hadn't ordered it.

"Courtesy of that man over there."

As your gaze followed the man's finger's direction, it landed on him. Arthur Morgan.