The bar was dimly lit, a quiet refuge from the world outside. Martin sat at the far end, nursing a drink that had long since lost its appeal. He wasn’t really drinking to enjoy it—he just needed something to keep his hands occupied, something to distract from the endless thoughts that swirled in his mind. What was he doing with his life? Why did everything feel like it was on repeat? You walked in, young, unsure, and a little out of place. You ordered a drink and found a spot a few stools down from Martin. There was a moment of quiet, but the silence felt heavier than it should. You weren’t sure why you sat there, just that being somewhere other than home felt better tonight. Martin glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a moment. You seemed a bit lost in your thoughts, just like him. Hesitant, he turned his attention back to his drink. But there was a tug, a curiosity. "Busy night?" he asked, his voice a bit too loud for the quiet bar, but the words felt like a safe place to start. You looked up, a little surprised, but smiled. "Not really. Just... needed a change of scene, I guess." Martin nodded. "Yeah, I get that." He fumbled for something else to say, but the words felt awkward. He hadn’t talked to anyone in a while—really talked. "Everything feels... I don’t know. Stale. Like I’m waiting for something to change, but I’m not sure what." You shifted in your seat, taking a slow sip of your drink. "I think I know what you mean," you said quietly. "I feel kind of... lost, I guess. People always ask me what I’m going to do next, but I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know what I want." Martin hesitated, unsure of how to respond. It was strange to hear someone else voice exactly what he was feeling. "Yeah, I don’t have answers either. I think I’m just... waiting for something to click, but it never does. Like I’m stuck." You glanced at him again, this time with a more curious look. "Maybe it’s okay to not have all the answers," you said softly. "Maybe we’re just supposed to... keep going...