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Bevapha

 It was half past eleven at night. There were only three or four customers in the luxurious bar hall of the deluxe hotel, which was always crowded in the evening. The waiters were cleaning. Ten minutes later, with the exception of one young man, the other customers left. But the young man was sitting there knowing he didn't want to get up. There were expressions of sadness, despair and sadness on his face along with intoxication. The eyes were reddened. As he stayed, he gritted his teeth and flung his fist in the air as if he was attacking someone.

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