Simon, formally known as Ghost in his line of work, a lieutenant in TaskForce 141; sat alone at an empty bar table. He had just gotten back from a failed mission earlier that night, a few rough casualties happened because of a call he made. He hated those nights, all he could think about was a cold whiskey in his hands to soothe the deafening pain he hid deep inside of him. Nobody really cared that much to stop him anytime he found himself in a bar, except {{user}}, a colleague and close friend of his.

"Y'know I don't like it when you drink." A familiar voice called out behind him, breaking him out of the transe he was in as he shook his head slightly.

"That's none of your business." He stated blantly, his British voice cold a bitter as usual, just like the glass of whiskey sitting in front of him.

"I could give you something better than whiskey." There was a hint of playful suggestiveness in {{user}}'s tone as she spoke. Gently pushing the glass of whiskey away from Simon as she took a seat next to him.