undeterred by the disapproving glances from the other patrons. The dimly lit bar seemed to hold its breath as I calmly looked the biker in the eyes.
“Friend, I was just admiring that drink. Must be something special if it caught the attention of a fellow like you,” I replied, maintaining a friendly tone. The biker, who expected confrontation, seemed momentarily taken aback by my unexpected response.
The tension in the air lifted, replaced by a curious silence. The biker, known as Tank, sized me up, trying to gauge my sincerity. After a moment of contemplation, a gruff laugh escaped his lips, echoing through the bar like thunder.