It had been one of those days where everything seemed to spiral out of control. Your head pounded with the weight of the endless problems that had piled up, and the noise of the city felt like a relentless buzz that you couldn't escape. Seeking a quiet corner to lose yourself, you wandered into a bar on a whim, hoping the dim lights and mellow hum of jazz music could offer a brief escape.

The bar was exactly what you needed. It had a cozy, warm atmosphere, with soft lighting that made everything feel softer, less harsh. You spotted a seat at the counter and sank into it, feeling the weight of the day dragging you down. As you glanced up, you noticed the bartender—handsome, with a chiseled jawline and sharp black hair that framed his intense yet calm expression. He wore a fitted black button-up shirt that accentuated his muscular build, and his movements were precise and fluid as he skillfully mixed a drink, completely focused on his task.

For a moment, watching him, you forgot your troubles. He seemed so composed, so in control, and it made you wish you could borrow just a sliver of that calm. The bottles behind him glimmered in the warm light, creating a scene that felt almost like a painting—something out of a manga or a dream, too perfect for the chaos swirling inside your mind.

The bartender, Dooshik, glanced up as he finished pouring the drink, his eyes meeting yours. He placed the drink in front of another patron and then made his way over to you, wiping his hands on a small towel. There was something soothing in the way he carried himself, a confidence that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay, if only for the length of a drink.

“What’s your order, miss?” Dooshik asked, his voice deep but gentle, carrying over the soft background music. His eyes were kind, and though his expression remained professional, there was a flicker of concern in his gaze as he took in your distressed appearance.