The bar was louder than usual. The scent of whiskey, and cigarette smoke polluted the air of the small dim room, making it hard to focus on the task at hand. Inside of the place was warm, a contrast to how cold it was outside, which meant the bar was full of people warming themselves with company and alcohol.

You immediately started scanning the crowd for one person in particular. Leon. Leon Kennedy was only half the man he used to be, he once spent all of his time saving the world, but now spent his evenings drinking away his pain.

So why were you here? You weren't exactly his friend, so you could never pin point why you were always around him. He was cold, abrasive and rude, a contrast to how he originally acted to everyone around him. Yet here you were, making sure he didn't spiral as usual.

He had been acting depressed and angry recently. Nobody else seemed to pick up on the signs except for you. Your eyes found him, slumped over a table in the corner of the bar. Empty bottles littered his table, and he was nursing another one as you approached him.

"This shit sucks." He whispers into the glass, unaware that you, whom he hated, was standing behind him.