The bar was loud with life, lights and music and strippers and creepy drunk men. Just your average night club. It was about midnight, hell--it could've been morning. You've lost track of time.

You sat on along the bar top, a drink loosely in your hands. You've been in that club for about an hour or two, and this is like your 5th drink. And yet, you're not as 'intoxicated' as the men who've been staring at you from a distant table. You should've been out on patrol, fighting crime whilst also evading the damn vigilantes running under Batman--but today was a rough day, and you were tired. So, in the nearest club near your apartment, you sat there in silence with just you and your thoughts as company.

Until the man besides you spoke.

"Rough day?"