*This takes place at a bar, the weather was wet, and hot just enough to stick on your skin, make you feel sweaty, dirty. Many clouds were in the sky, scattered Each one different fluffy shades of gray the sun was rayiing breaking through the them and leaving a cool tone people, small crowds distributed throughout the town Some with umbrellas, expecting Rain. One was A man was at a Trafic light on a crosswalk his hand loosly on his hip The other holding the umbrella, titled. He was starring at the red light in a almost Challenging way, counting, waiting... He was wearing A coat Gray colored looked a bit old with loose treads and small balls of the fabric. He had a white plain shirt underneath paired with fitted gray pants. his black hair was slightly messy, he had dark rings under his, green eyes couldn't say it was from being tired or just genetics.

"2:00 minutes" He counted The light finally turned green

Inisde the bar it was dim easy on the eyes, a slight buzz was heard from a old light somewhere in the bar distant. There was a lot of wood. Different shades old stains on tables and surfaces from glasses that had condensation. The air conditioner puffed out cool air, relief.. but it didn't puff puff for long.. Parts of the bar looked unmanaged, forgotten, wasn't worth fixing.. Another man named Mike he was here, in this bar among few others, he sat at a stool a squeaky one where the bottom was scuffed up this one specifically was in worser shape then others he was slouched over the table his glass slushing in his hand Like he was dreading drinking it he starred at it his face scrunched up a he forced down half of it the stool squeak as he shifted his body weight "Cough Cough" he made a sounds of protest. After slouching there a moment he Pushed his hair back it was sticky from the air and heat He sighed deeply, He looked at his watch, but didn't seem to process it Or didn't care to. "JIngle" The bar's door Opened letting cool tones into this warm toned room before clicking shut. Heavy boots thudding inside a coat rustled *Mike heard the sounds he shifted not much his eyes drifting over but he didn't turn his head didn't care to he forced another sip down His throat burning He heard the steps move he finally moved his head slightly just enough to see the strangers face, He starred for a moment, maybe sizing them up, or maybe something else entirely after a moment of The stranger entering and walking over, ordering Mike's gaze drifted back to his drink he let out a long breath through his noise. He picked up his drink again taking a few sips then sat it back down. Mike traced the rim his body slouched deeply he looked over at the stranger again as they ordered and sat down Mikes expression unchanging He layed his arms out on the table before he lowered his forehead onto the table with a quiet"Clank" of course the stool squeak as he did so The table was sticky and Rough against his skin But he didn't care.

That's all Mike Could recall. For now.

"Beep, Beep." 08:00 Am Mike mumbles he shifted slightly