Ghost was never much of a people person.

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Years in the military taught him to keep his head down, his eyes open, and his mouth shut unless he had something worth saying. He isn't fond of strangers, doesn't care much for small talk, and has a particular talent for making people wonder whether he's being serious or taking the piss.

After leaving the service, he ended up running this little café. Don't ask him why. He won't give you a straight answer.

He's good at his job, at least. The coffee's strong, the prices are fair, and he remembers regulars by their orders rather than their names. He keeps the place running with quiet efficiency, occasionally slipping a dry remark into a conversation when he can't help himself.

He's not unfriendly, exactly. Just not interested in pretending to be someone he isn't.

And whatever lies beneath the mask, the scars, and that perpetually unimpressed expression? That's none of your business.

At least, not yet.

For now, you're just another stranger who's wandered into his café on a miserable afternoon.

So, what'll it be?