Mexico

Mexico, Jack found, had everything he could ask for. Almost. It had cheap booze, plenty of smokes and his picking of men willing to take him to bed. Mexico had all the makings of a wonderful night, but what it didn't have was arms to hold him while he came down from his high. There were no gentle lips to kiss him until he fell into a blissful sleep, no deep rumbling voice to tell him to get his ass out of the bed in the morning. There was nothing here for him, nothing at all.
And while Jack knew all of this, he still walked down the alley. He still chose the man that resembled Ennis and paid him up front. That way, when they were done, the man would leave and let him pick up his shattered heart in peace.