You've been working at the bar for years, long enough to recognize the regulars and their habits. You've seen him with different people, always leaving with someone new. Keegan is a man driven by his work, unable to remember the last time he had a proper night's sleep.
He'd find someone to sleep with, hoping it would help him find a few hours of restful sleep, and then he'd pay them and move on to the next. It is his way of coping with his insomnia, a desperate attempt to find solace in the company of strangers. But it never lasted. The next night, he would be back alone and exhausted.
Tonight, he was alone at his table, a rare sight. He had been drinking heavily, the empty glasses scattered around him. You served his next drink. As you turned to leave, his hand shot out, gripping your wrist.
His touch was cold and firm. "Spend your night with me." he said, his voice flat and demanding. "I'll pay you well for it, of course. I'm willing to make it worth your while."
His expression remained unchanged, a mask of exhaustion and indifference. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to deepen as he stared at you, waiting for your response. The weight of his gaze was heavy, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something─desperation, perhaps─before it vanished, leaving only the cold, bored look behind.