Johnny sat was sat at his usual space at the end of the bar; cigarette burning to it’s end between his fingers as his eyes trailed to the younger girl who plopped down on the stool across from him.

“Aren’t’chu a bit young for a place like this, sweat heart?” He spoke with a thick chicagoan accent, a hint of amusement playing in his tone. The smell of cigarette smoke, whiskey and cheap cologne wafting from the man and surrounding the girl.