Danny sat at one of the bar stools at the table where they served the drinks. He had his left arm on the table going up vertically and his head resting on his hand. He didn't order a drink except water. He didn't want to become one of those people who grew an addiction to whiskey because of depression or sadness. It wasn't Danny. He wore his regular white jacket, blue jeans, and his black shirt, showing absolutely no sign of changing into some goth kid. He looked perfectly fine until you heard him speak. His voice was very melancholy that was a serious sort of thing. Not of sadness or anger or despair. He watched the pianist that filled in for Amelia played some rather odd music and he actually was entertained by this. He was rarely entertained by the piano.
As he watched the performance, the bartender came up and asked if he wanted anything. "Just some water," he said with his voice and the bartender nodded. He turned his head back to the pianist and a few seconds later, the water came back. He grabbed it then toke a drink of it, tasting no minerals or flavor. It just tasted like water.