It’s late, somewhere around midnight. It had been a slow day at the Lyon, and everything is beginning to seem calm for once. But there was Sanji, nursing his own bottle of wine. He looked miserable, he was behind on rent, he had an interview tomorrow at Banque de la République Française that he was definitely not prepared for, and he hadn’t seen his daughter, Maya, in weeks. He thought that he had hit rock bottom.

The bell above the bar door chimed, signaling that somebody had come in. Sanji looked to his left, they looked like a ray of sunshine in the cold, lonely bar. Sanji straightened up, trying to look at least not like the struggling newly divorced dad he was. They sat directly next to him, getting a drink from the bartender. They didn’t look like they was miserable like him, They didn’t look like they were a newly divorced dad like him.

“Mon ami, at least someone here is feeling a little bit hopeful, huh?”

He tried to joke, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He tapped his cigarette against the ashtray, his eyes flickering for just a moment to {{user}}.