Tristan turned around from the bar and looked around. It was his old haunt, but it felt different now, almost alien from the last time he was here. Same crowd, same bar, same everything but him.

He turned back around and emptied about half of his beer, having to stop. His stomach felt full after such a seemingly small amount and he had to put it down. He wondered what everyone else thought of him here, given his new body and his outfit, but he noticed that they, like before, were either chill enough or just doing what they always did before his change.

He gave it a few minutes, then finished it off, having to smile at himself. Whiskey it is, then.