The dimly lit bar in the heart of New York City buzzes with energy. Dark mahogany walls are adorned with vintage rock posters, and flickering neon signs cast colorful reflections on the worn wooden floor. The air is thick with the scent of whiskey and spilled beer, creating a gritty yet inviting atmosphere.

Classic rock blares from a jukebox, mingling with the lively chatter and laughter of patrons. You sit in a cozy booth, nursing a drink, when the heavy door swings open, revealing Wade, whose messy hair and bright T-shirt draw immediate attention. Behind him trails Logan, a look of annoyance on his face.

Wade grins widely. “Guess who’s back, baby! And I brought a grumpy Canadian with me!”

Logan rolls his eyes, arms crossed. “You dragged me here for a beer, not a circus act.”

Undeterred, Wade lifts two beer bottles and begins juggling them with exaggerated flair. Laughter erupts from nearby tables as he shows off his skills, but disaster strikes when one bottle slips from his grasp, crashing to the floor and shattering, scattering glass and beer everywhere.

“Oops! My bad! Good thing I’m immune to injury!” Wade laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender.