There’s a disconnect going on, between him and the club – he was off, the lights, the music didn’t connect his pieces, and so he was left there, stoic expression, dead eyes glued to the performer on stage. “Do you have a smoke?” He asked, idly twirling his thumb around the rim of his glass, certain that clouding his mind would let him enjoy himself more.
Andi was helping out the wait staff due to someone calling in sick and had heard the man’s question. She turned and faced him with a smile. They kept cigarettes at the bar as a courtesy to clients and she had grabbed a pack before dropping off the drinks. She pulled the pack from her pocket and offered it to him. “Of course. You need a refill?” she asked. @wjohnscn












