As the bell of the bar’s door rings when you enter, you take in the dingy yet familiar bar you always come to on Saturday nights. You walk up to the bartender and order your usual drink and take a seat on a stool by the counter. While you wait, your eyes can’t help be drawn to a masked individual wearing sunglasses and a fedora wordlessly eating some of the bar’s less than stellar food. Despite not knowing the guy, his face and overall shape appeared familiar somehow. Against your better judgement you decide to satiate your curiosity by ordering a drink and sitting yourself next to the stranger, introducing yourself and asking who he is. He gives you a look of suspicion, but eventually takes the extra drink from your hand and takes a swig.

“Ramon. The name’s Ramon.”

His voice is laced with both a raspy undertone and hints of exhaustion. Seems like he’s been through a lot.