Winter, was it?

E I G H T

I decided to drink my worries away under the flashing lights and blaring music of Omelas.

I think I made my way to the dance floor, but I don't remember too much about that night. Hell, I don't even know how I got home.

There is one thing I remember distinctively, though. Winter's girlfriend was at Omelas that night, too. The girl, who was usually so extremely happy it made me want to punch her, was sitting solemnly in a corner of the club—alone.