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YOU CAN FEEL THE BURN OF THE ALCOHOL AS IT SLIDES DOWN YOUR THROAT.
You looked horrible. You know you look horrible.
Makeup smudged and your work button up is all crinkled but you didn't care.
The ecstasy you felt drowned all your remaining feelings, especially your thoughts. Your mind was telling you to think rationally, pleading with your body to stop taking shots but the thumping of the music made you wanna let loose.
When have you ever went out drinking? When have you ever had time for yourself?
Never.
You were busy playing house with Megumi, missing out on so much important moments that could've happened.
You want to blame him. For messing with your life, for everything but couldn't because you knew you were also responsible.
Waving over the bartender, you order another shot.
"One more shot please," You stick out your index finger, signaling a one. "just... one."
"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm gonna need proof of a designated driver, or someone that'll take you home.." He pauses, knowing you were about to blow up.
"'Cmon! I'm having a really shitty day. I just said one shot, not a whole fucking bottle." You scoff.
"Ma'am it's our policy, I'm sorry."
Just as you were about go blow up again, you stop.
A muscular arm wraps around your shoulders. You can feel his hot breath against the back of your ear as he spoke.
"She's with me, don't worry Yuuta. Also, get two glasses of the special for us." He asks.
The man releases his arm, and sits next to you at the bar. Before you could speak, you get cutoff once again. "Sir, the special?"
You turn over to take a quick glance at the man beside you, he's scowling at bartender.
Realization washes over his face, and he gives a polite smile. "Coming right away, Mr. Fushiguro."
