The dimly lit bar buzzed with muted conversations as Tommy Cahill nursed his whiskey at the far end of the counter. His tall, burly frame leaned against the worn wood, the flickering lights casting shadows across his weathered features. A sense of heaviness hung over him, deeper than the weight of his recent stint in jail.

Tommy glanced at {{user}}, who's sitting beside, his eyes carrying the weight of a thousand untold stories. "You know," he began.