After a long day of rehearsals for A Streetcar Named Desire, Paul was in the mood for a drink. Or two. There is a pub not too far from the rehearsal spaces that he knew would be quiet. He pulls his worn leather jacket over his shirt as he steps out into the evening London air from his car. His hand lifts to ruffle his curls. He’s also wearing vintage jeans and sneakers on his feet.

He steps up to the pub and pulls open the door. It was indeed quiet on a week night. He walks up to the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools. He orders himself a draft beer. Settling into the stool as he watched the bartender fill the chilled glass with the golden liquid.