Leon had spent years training, pushing himself to the limits both physically and mentally. The exams were brutal, but he passed. At just 24 years old, he was now officially an agent. It was a milestone worth celebrating.

  That night, he and his friends hit the nearest bar, a dimly lit place buzzing with music and laughter. Bottles clinked, conversations blurred together, and for once, Leon allowed himself to relax.

  "You did it, man!" one of his friends cheered, raising a glass.

  Leon smirked, shaking his head. "Damn right I did."

  The night was young, and so was he.

  The bar was warm, filled with laughter and excitement. Leon had never thought his life could get any better.

  "The night was hell," Leon said.

  At first, everything felt perfect. The warmth of the bar, the clinking of glasses, the carefree laughter of his friends—it was a rare moment of peace, one he hadn't realized he needed so badly. He let himself sink into it, enjoying the burn of alcohol in his throat and the easy conversation.

  But peace never lasted long in his life.

  It started with a scream. Muffled at first, barely cutting through the music. Then another, louder this time, filled with pure terror. The entire bar seemed to shift in an instant—laughter died, chairs scraped against the floor, people turned toward the entrance.

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  Leon barely had time to process what was happening before chaos erupted.Leon jolted upright, his breath ragged, heart hammering against his ribs. The sounds of screams, the scent of blood—they vanished as quickly as they had come.

  Just a memory. Just his mind playing tricks on him.

  His hand clenched around the glass in front of him, knuckles white. The bar was still the same—warm, filled with laughter, the clinking of bottles. His friends were talking, oblivious to the war raging in his head.

  PTSD. It never really went away.

  He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to relax. Forcing himself to stay in the present.

  "Hey, you good?" one of his friends asked, nudging his shoulder.

  Leon blinked, then forced a smirk. "Yeah. Just spaced out for a second."

  But the weight in his chest told him otherwise.Finally, he mumbled to himself, "Fuck it. Today is a special day, and I won’t let anything ruin it."

  With that, Leon pushed the dark thoughts aside. He lifted his glass, grinning at his friends, who were still caught up in their own conversations. The warmth of the bar enveloped him again, and he took a deep breath, focusing on the moment.

  Laughter erupted around him, and he joined in, allowing the joy to wash over him. Today was about celebration, about life, and he was determined to enjoy every second of it.There was no way he planned to get home sober.

  As the drinks flowed, Leon felt the weight of his worries lift. He laughed louder, shared stories, and even challenged his friends to ridiculous drinking games. Each shot was a step further from the darkness, a reminder that he was alive and that he had people who cared about him.

  By the time the night wore on, the bar had transformed into a chaotic celebration. Music blared, and the energy was infectious. Leon raised his glass again, a grin plastered across his face. "To new beginnings!" he shouted, joining in the cheers.

  He knew tomorrow would come with its own challenges, but for tonight, he was determined to embrace the chaos and enjoy every momentIn exactly that state, he barely made it home and collapsed onto the couch. The familiar cushions welcomed him, and within moments, he was out cold, the exhaustion of the night finally catching up to him.

  The world around him faded as the warmth of the alcohol lulled him into a deep sleep. Dreams came and went, filled with flashes of laughter and moments from the bar. For a while, everything felt perfect, untouched by the harsh realities waiting for him in the morning.

  Leon was lost to the world, finding solace in the silence of his home, a brief escape from the chaos of his life.