Don't Think Too Much, It'll Hurt.

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// I'm not adding images to this anymore lmAo - I may add songs tho idk //

Tom roamed the quiet streets, passing people that laughed and giggled to each other. They were happy, and Tom wasn't. He hadn't talked to Edd, or Matt, for at least four months now. He looked a mess. The constant alcohol and such hadn't taken a toll on his body, which was still tall and heavy with muscle (albeit a small bit of chub to amount to his lack of doing much), but it sure had taken a toll on his mental state. The Brit seemed oblivious to the people he passed, and he only nodded a greeting to a group of familiar faces he'd known from high school. Had he known them? He thought he did. Huffing, Tom walked into the bar and took a seat, looking up only when the female working the bar tapped the table with her nails.

"Chloe." He greeted.

"Thomas." The female replied. "The usual?"

"You know it." Tom laughed, probably not genuine. Chloe clicked her tongue and walked over to start mixing Tom's drink of Smirnoff and, ironically, coke.

About an hour later, he was on his fourth drink, and he still didn't feel woozy. Tom heard the door open again, but he didn't pay any mind to it. A lot of people walked into the bar. He heard boots clicking on the wooden floor and looked over, expecting some primed and pretty female, but he nearly vomited at the sight.

It was Tord.

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