Joe Goldberg is beginning to wonder if there's any more decent people in the world. With both Candace and Beck out of the picture, he's feeling lonely and starting to give up on love. That is, until Leila comes sobbing into Mooney's. Fragile and vul...
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-trigger warning- ⚠🚧🚨
I suck at being a best friend.
Nothing I do is making her stop. She's just downing one drink after another like there's no tomorrow and I'm helpless to stop it.
At this point, she's almost on a first-name basis with the bartender. And I'm sure Joe is beginning to wonder if we'll return.
God, I suck.
"Another!" She demands slamming the martini glass to the table. The bartender gives her a weary look before turning to me.
"I'm not serving her any more." His voice falls flat, but stays stern. Evan starts screaming. "I'll serve you, though."
Yeah, I do need a drink. I pull out my card and wallet and hand it to him. "Give me an Old Fashion." I say taking it back. "Close my tab."
He nods and heads back off. I turn to talk to Evan as I wait, but it's too late. She's sobbing on the phone to whom I can only assume is Casey.
"We've got to disarm this bitch, fast!"
"Mark!" I squeal. "How did you-?"
"I wouldn't miss Peter preform, I'm taking snaps for Don and decided it was time for another drink. God, I miss that boy!" He runs a hand through his thick chocolate hair before scooping the phone from Evan's clutches. "You'll thank me!" He calls over the music. His groupies work to hold Evan back as she kicks and screams. "You enjoy your night, I'm taking this bitch home! Tell Joe 'you're welcome' for me!"
With the help of his 'bad bitches', Mark manages to get Evan down the stairs and away from my line of vision. I smile, shaking my head at the place they once stood.
While I'm more than a little relieved that Mark rescued Evan, I'm still feeling guilty for not giving her what she needed.
I feel like I failed her.
And our friendship.
Damn.
"Here you go." I make sure to take the cup from the bartender and turn to leave.
Before I can get anywhere, a tall, skinny man dressed in nerd-goth attire stops me. "Hey, how you doin'?"
God, could he get any more cliche? I want to roll my eyes but force a smile. "I've got to, eh, get to my boyfriend." I say peering around his shoulder, hoping Joe will emerge from the crowd.
"Boyfriend?" He sounds confused. "I don't see anyone else here, do you?"
It's only then I realize I'm sandwhiched between the geeky goth and a shorter more filled out hispter version. The stout one shakes his head. "Nope, just us and this pretty lady."
