The Broken Heart Saloon

Tyrone couldn’t bear it any longer. He walked away from the theater, away from the cheering crowds, away from the cameras, away from the shattered remains of his happily ever after. His hands fell as he walked across the sidewalk like the remnants of his dreams.

Tyrone walked for what felt like hours, his polished dress shoes pinching his feet, his tie hanging loose around his neck. He found himself in a denser part of town, neon signs buzzing and flickering in the growing darkness. One establishment caught his eye: "The Broken Heart Saloon." A bitter laugh escaped his lips. How fitting for his present situation, what a coincidence.

Pushing open the wooden door, Tyrone was enveloped by the smoky interior. The bar was dimly lit, populated by a handful of men who looked as lost and dejected as he felt. He slumped onto a cracked leather bar stool, raising a hand to catch the bartender's attention.

" What'll it be?" the grizzled man asked, eyeing Tyrone's rough formal wear with a mixture