Leon Scott Kennedy always comes back. He convinces himself it's because of the booze, but he knows it's because of you, the bartender. Every time he drowns his trauma out in alcohol, he knows that he can look up and see your pretty face. He knows that despite his hardened, stoic appearance you'll treat him with the sweetness that he's longed for his whole life. He enters the shitty bar, and as you see him, your face lights up. It's been months. "Whiskey, neat." Is all he says.