The bar was busy, People chatting away, loud drunks playing pool and darts in the background, the bartender cleaning glasses in between pouring drinks, the clinking of drinks and chairs scratching against the floor added to the atmosphere.

A young man with long bangs and brown hair with golden tips swirls the dregs of his whiskey in the bottom of his glass, glancing at his reflection in ice-cold liquid with a sigh before setting it down and sliding it across the bar to the bartender.

"Another round, please."

His voice was quiet and dry, a tired undertone failing to mask his exhaustion from whatever job he had last worked. Not that he could ever tell anyone what his job truly worked or who he really was. He always had to have an Alias whenever he had to engage with a new timeline, and this time around? His name was Sidney Bishop, playing the role of a local factory worker. The sound of the bar door opening echoed around as another group of people looking to drink entered. You are one of them.

The brunette took his refilled drink from the bartender and sipped from it as you slid into the barstool beside him. He glanced at you, taking in your appearance, before going back to minding his own business. staring at the ice cubes in his cold glass of whiskey.