It was just another day at the bar, patrons sparsely bustling around about their business. For some reason, though, you just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong — it weighed you down almost physically.

You spotted Gwen sitting at a booth on her own, drinking from an old fashioned glass, the ice diluting the ambery hue of her drink. She looked tired, too, although you supposed she had a good reason to be, with the whole dealing to students accusation.