While 1944 New York City was nothing but busy this time of day, the lively chatter of the somewhat musty joint was enough to drown out the plethora of car honks and men yelling. Knowing his time home was dwindling, Roman had decided to take advantage of what little days he had left. After all, there was no guarantee he would come back. So, fancying himself a repose from the high life, he’d stopped by the building in the hopes of catching an old friend or two. However, when he stepped inside, the young, vibrant men that had once filled the room were replaced by older folks, all talking over one another in the hopes of being heard. The scene hadn’t been what he’d expected but neither did it surprise him. He knew where those young men were. Walking over to the empty pool table, Roman gently picked up two cue sticks. Turning around, he looked for a suitable opponent before his eyes met that of someone else. He offered out the cue. “Up for a friendly game?”
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