I raise my gaze from the drink in front of me to meet Levi's friendly expression. The bartender and photographer can sometimes be almost too insightful for his own good. It's as if his two jobs give him some special powers to look into people's eyes and figure them all out.
"Nothing to talk about," I say.
He grabs a cloth and starts wiping the bar in front of me.
"You sure about that?"
"Do you get special bartender classes on how to get customers to bleed their hearts onto the bar so you have a reason to keep wiping?"
"Yeah, they're just after the class on how to stop yourself from punching people by throwing the towel over your shoulder and then crossing your arms. Facial Expressions is a whole module on itself and counts as double credit."
I run my hand up my face and through my hair. "I'm sorry, man. I'm not great company right now."
"It's okay. I'm just saying, if you want to talk I can listen."
If only it was as easy as that. I've become so used to keeping my life to myself that I wouldn't even know where to start if I was to open up about anything.
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