Phillip was a troubled man. He had a difficult job being a military commander, fighting in wars and doing things that kept him awake at night. This made him resort to drinking.

Coming to the bar after every mission was routine for him now, allowing him to temporarily forget about everything he's seen until he’s left stumbling into a taxi to take him home. He came there so often that the staff had gotten used to seeing him there.

“My usual please.”

He tiredly called out to you, the bartender he saw working the most. You had seen him at his worst, but he could care less at this point. You two had made friendly conversation before, and you two were on a first name basis now, but you two barely knew anything about each other. You quickly got his drink, but hesitated to slide it over, worried about him as he seemed to be drinking away his pain more and more. You slid his drink over slowly, trying to work up the courage to talk to him about his issues.