I pulled into the first place I knew would serve me without questions... a dark, high-end lounge tucked between two office towers. It was quiet. Low lighting, low music. The kind of place where people came to disappear.
I sat at the bar and ordered everything. Neat.
The first glass barely hit the wood before I finished it.
The second burned.
The third went down easier.
I wasn't pacing myself. Wasn't here for the taste.
This wasn't social drinking.
It was tearing the bandage off and pouring the alcohol straight into the wound.
The bartender gave me that cautious look you give someone you're not sure will walk out of here upright.
I ignored it. Signaled for another.
My head was already buzzing. My chest was still hollow.
I thought about Aria's mouth on his. The way she used to look at me. The way she didn't anymore.
Soon the ache had dulled just enough for me to breathe without feeling like I was bleeding out from the inside.
