Chapter One Hundred and Eighty Four

Marco sat alone at the dimly lit bar, his fingers wrapped tightly around a glass of amber liquid.

The scent of alcohol filled his nose and calmed him, the chatter and laughter of the other patrons.

But Marco was lost in his world of turmoil, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.

The bar was his refuge now, a place where he could drown his sorrows and numb the pain that was gnawing at him.

The whiskey burned his throat, but he welcomed the sensation, hoping it would distract him from the storm raging inside.

His thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind of anger, fear, and desperation, threatening to consume him completely.

Tonight, everything reached a boiling point, and Marco felt like he was losing control.

He glanced around the bar, observing the carefree smiles on the faces of others. Envy gnawed at him.

Why couldn't he be like them? Why couldn't he let go of his anger and simply enjoy the moment? But the darkness within him refused to let go, gripping his heart like a vice.