John was never one for the finer things in life. The cheap variants worked just fine, why should he care beyond that?

The fact he had willingly chosen to head to a fancy saloon was beyond him — maybe he just needed a break from the gang.

So, there he was, leaning against the bar, sipping the best — albeit the most expensive — whiskey he had tasted for a while, listening to the soft instruments fill the space — Thus following, a voice. Singing along to the easy music on stage.