„That is none of your concern“, you say calmly but firm. „What should be your concern, is what you are willing to pay for it.“ You lean forward, take the bag from his hands and close it before anyone else in the packed bar can grasp the valuable contents. You let it vanish under your dark coat again and lean back in your chair. You remain silent while you take a few sips of your beer. You behave unbothered, yet keep your eyes on every movement and facial expression of him. They range from surprise and tactical calculations to a final assessment of yourself.

You are used to people trying to evaluate your motives, trustworthiness, threat and more. What they don‘t know is how you are almost daily underestimated. And while you keep your stoic poker face. You‘ll try to read his in return. Mostly people try to screw you over. But something is off with him. Almost like looking into a mirror you just can‘t seem to grasp his own essence.

You keep staring at a white wall. Or rather dark, as you can still barely see his features under his hood. He must feel the same. And since I was feeling suspicious, I could almost see the suspiscion slowly crawling into his eyes. And with that we simultaneously reached for our pistols.