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[ He's quiet for a moment, thinking it over. He wasn't wrong.

The barstool is pushed back and he stands, his hand going into his pocket. ]

The place doesn't matter.

[ He starts heading for the door. ]

The people in it do.

[ The bell on top chimes as he opens it and he looks back at him, a smile playing behind gold eyes. ]

Are you coming, or not?

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