Ethan slammed his palm against the table, the impact rattling the cheap bottles and half-filled glasses around him. His voice rose above the noise of the bar, loud, slurred, and desperate.
"I'm telling you… one day… one day I'm going to be a respectable politician!"
He pointed at no one in particular, his thick finger swaying as much as his body. His face was bloated from drink, his receding hairline glistening under the dim lights, while patches of gray bled into his unkempt black beard, giving him a worn, almost pitiful look. The beard itself was uneven, tattered, like it had long been abandoned by care.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then the laughter came.
It rolled through the room in waves, sharp and cutting. Some patrons shook their heads, others leaned back in their seats, openly entertained. A few did not even bother hiding their contempt.
Ethan's jaw tightened as his eyes darted around, searching for even a single face that believed him.
There was none.
