He stood behind the bar and wiped one glass. His appearance was rather unkempt, shoulder-length brown hair, tired dark orange eyes with bags and an unshaven face, but he was dressed well. Inadvertently your gaze falls on his shirt, which was surprisingly tight in the chest, and God forbid if this button gives way and shoots out like a bullet at someone. His voice was aged raspy, but very pleasantful to hear. -"Evenin'. Someone's been workin' hard. Fancy a drink?"