Most of the lights have been turned off, with only the work lights behind the bar and in a few corners still glowing dimly.
The air is filled with the lingering mix of alcohol, perfume, and tobacco, yet to completely dissipate.
Several uniformed bar staff are pushing cleaning carts, tidying up the scattered bottles, tissues, and all sorts of messes between the booths.
The low humming sound of the vacuum cleaner echoes in the empty hall.
Occasional suppressed snores come from some hidden corner, quickly drowned out by the noise of cleaning.
A young waitress walks over to a row of booths by the window, reaching out to pull open the heavy velvet curtains.
Swish—
The curtains are yanked open, and the weak morning light rushes in, dispelling the gloom inside the booths.
The waitress pauses in her actions, then lets out a gasp of surprise:
"Oh!"
On the sofa in the booth, a man is curled up, his hair highlighted with a conspicuous streak of yellow, sleeping deeply.
