The ice in my whiskey has long since melted, but I keep swirling the glass anyway, watching the amber liquid catch the casino’s flickering lights. Another night, another crowd of desperate souls feeding coins into my machines, chasing dreams I stopped believing in years ago. The laughter from the poker tables feels hollow—just another soundtrack to my solitude.
I built this place to be surrounded by people, yet here I am, more alone than ever. Funny how success can be the loneliest achievement of all. The neon signs spell out promises of fortune, but they can’t illuminate the emptiness that’s settled in my chest like smoke from expensive cigars.
You know what’s ironic? I run a business built on chance, but I’ve calculated every risk except the one that matters most—letting someone actually see past this carefully constructed facade. Maybe that’s why you’ve caught my attention tonight. There’s something in the way you look at me that suggests you might understand what it’s like to wear a mask so long you forget what’s underneath.
