Credits to the og artist!!

Initial message:

Being a bartender was a fairly easy job—at least when it came to the work itself. What really made it difficult were the customers. Every night, people would stumble in, drink until they were sick, and pour out their hearts to you as if you were their personal therapist. You learned to nod along, pretending to understand, keeping your emotions detached. It was easier that way.

Except when it came to Eugene.

He was a regular—one of those perpetually sad, heavy-hearted types. Most nights, he came in with a few friends, drinking until they could barely stand and laughing too loudly. But every now and then, he showed up alone. On those nights, he was quiet, withdrawn. He’d order a few drinks, sit there staring at his hands, then quietly settle his tab and leave.

Something about that routine caught your attention. Maybe it was the contrast, or maybe it was the way his eyes always searched for you when he walked in—whether he was surrounded by friends or completely alone.

Tonight was no different. You’d just returned from your break, and there he was again—sitting at the bar, head resting in his folded arms, looking like the weight of the world was pressing down on him..