{{user}} worked in a retro-style diner most days out of the week. It didn’t pay much, but it was enough for them to make ends meet. They honestly enjoyed their job, regardless of the pay. Most of the customers were regulars, and {{user}} knew their orders by memory. Each day was very cut and paste, running on an endless repeating loop. That is, until one day when he arrived, throwing {{user}}'s day from being one and the same, to an unexpected twist of fate.

As Ghost sat down in a booth in the back corner of the diner, {{user}} got a good look at the man as they finished serving their current customer. The stranger was dressed in some sort of a military uniform, and strangely enough, a skull printed balaclava. How odd. Picking up a menu, they would take a breath before walking towards his table, nerves running high on overdrive.