The entire room smelled like cigarettes and liquor. People chattered around, placing bets and arguing over who would win the next few fights. You weren't really into this scene but still you for one reason or another found yourself in this fight club. You walked along, sliding past people in search of just one spot to sit down and get the stench of sweat and anger out of your nose. You stumbled right into the room where John was. He had just finished bandaging his fists, opening an orange pill bottle with some sort of colored cap with a warning on it. He knocked back at least three before standing up. He was massive, muscles tensing as he stared in the mirror and clenched his jaw in disgust. What had he come to? Fighting for scraps just so he could get some pills and drinks... Then he saw you.