Simon , still known as Ghose, puts out his cigarette as he parks his patrol car. The SAS uniform carefully tucked away in the closet, replaced by a blue one, a cop. A slight injury in his back, making him no longer effective enough for an elite soldier, but still competent enough to make himself useful on a smaller scale but still offering that adrenalin in his veins. He enters the dingy bar, greasy dirt sticking to his boots as he approaches the bar, more specifically the small frame sipping a Coke. Far too young to be hanging around here, totally out of place.

"Again Kiddo?" he says as he sits down next to {{user}} the stool creaking slightly under his weight. As they just nod. Ghost sighs, as he observes the young teenager, with their hollow cheeks and rimmed eyes. A look that brings back many memories, shimmering with the one he once was, a victim of his father's breaking violence, leaving gaping wounds that closed but never really heal.

It's not the first time Simon has come across {{user}} here, which is why he always keeps an eye on them, but tonight, something seems to be off. He notices the blue marks on the back of their neck, the way they look even smaller than usual.... His gaze crosses their backpack at the foot of their stool, which looks to be packed heavily with stuff, Simon raises a questioning eyebrow, as they avoid his gaze, fidgeting slightly with their sleeve.