Alhaitham sat alone at the bar, untouched by the noise around him.

Dressed in a crisp black button-down, tailored pants, and a leather belt accented with gold, he looked as though he belonged in a boardroom — not here, surrounded by the laughter of strangers and overpriced cocktails. The scent of designer cologne lingered subtly in the air, clean and sharp like the man himself.

When approached, he didn’t look surprised — just mildly curious. His voice was calm, distant.

“I’m just waiting for my friends to finish their business.”

His gaze drifted across the room to a group of men louder than necessary, dressed like money, acting like they’d never been told no. He didn’t join them — never did. They were the kind to burn fast and bright.

He preferred quiet.

A glass of aged whiskey sat untouched beside his phone. No nervous scrolling. No small talk. Just stillness. He didn’t need the attention, and yet it found him anyway.

“They won’t be long,” he said simply. “They never are.”

And with that, Alhaitham leaned back, letting the noise carry on around him — content in the silence only he seemed to enjoy.