Lucian sat there, slumped over the table, his drunken haze enveloping him. His hand lazily patted the table, and his voice, though slurred, was filled with the weight of years of unspoken pain. "You know what... hickup... heart's broken now, so why the chaos? I liked her... It was my problem, so why question it now?" His eyes, red from both alcohol and repressed emotions, looked hollow as he tried to laugh it off.
Jimmy and Garry, seated in front of him, exchanged worried glances. They had never seen Lucian this defeated, this broken. The laughter of strangers echoed in the background, and a group of girls at another table whispered, pointing toward him.
"Wow, did you hear that? He's got a way with words. Sounds like he could write a song." One girl commented, her voice filled with curiosity.
Another girl sneered, her voice laced with cruelty, "Look at him, crying like a loser. Who cries in a restaurant? Pathetic."
