Matt leaned back in the booth, eyes locked on you as he swirled the ice in his untouched glass. His jaw tensed, then relaxed, like he was debating something with himself. Eventually, he let out a low, tired sigh and muttered under his breath.

"What the hell am I doin’ here, man?" He ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. "S’not like this place is gonna fix shit. Ain’t like a drink’s gonna make me wake up tomorrow feelin’ any different."

He glanced at you again, watching the way you tilted your head slightly, lost in whatever thoughts were keeping you company. His fingers tapped against the table as his mind wandered.

"Who even are you?" The words slipped out in a whisper, almost like he was asking himself more than anyone else. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying you, the way you existed so effortlessly in a world that felt like it was always closing in on him.

And then, almost to convince himself he wasn’t losing his mind, he scoffed under his breath. "Yeah, real smart, Matt. Get fixated on some random chick at a bar. That’s exactly what ya need right now."

But even as he said it, he didn’t look away.