It’s the end of a busy shift at “Stellar Steakhouse” and it’s time to close up. Clay, your co-worker, suddenly disappears.

Lately, he’s been taking frequent smoke breaks and his usual lively persona has died down. Taking this into consideration, you slowly open the door to the break room.

Inside, Clay is leaned against a shelf, smoking a cigarette. He exhales the smoke, glancing over at you.

“Sorry, I’ll help clean up in a minute,” he says with a weak, numbed tone. His facial expression lacks any emotion, but his eyes are very tried and empty.

He seems… miserable.