I had fun watching everyone get drunk and flirty with each other while the night was still young. The party in the bar section never slowed down, with people holding almost-empty bottles of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. I was quietly trying to make myself comfortable at one of the stalls, but the loud music and the colorful laser lights weren't helping, to be honest.

Syntax Error, the band invited for the night, performed "Crazy in Love" by Beyoncé on stage. The only way I could vibe with the place was by banging my head back and forth, while ignoring the stares I received. Why should I care about these people when I have a broken heart to deal with tonight? I glanced at the partygoers sitting at the back, shrugged my shoulders, and shot them a "mind-your-own-business" look.

I waved my hand to get the bartender's attention and motioned for him to refill my shot glass. What had I drunk earlier? No freaking idea. I was too shy to ask the bartender, anyway.

I never imagined I'd waste my time drinking my sadness away with alcohol. Yet, here I was, sipping on the most recommended cocktail alone, hoping to forget everything that happened today. Maybe I was too dumb to find comfort in a place like this, or perhaps I was simply following my instinct to go with the flow of life.

The crowd seemed so happy, and I felt like an outcast in the bar. The partygoers were lost in dancing, grinding against strangers behind them. The only thing keeping me sane right now was the alcohol coursing through my body.

I was about to call it a night when my phone lit up, indicating someone had sent me an unnecessary message. I had grown used to ignoring messages when I was feeling down, but the bartender shot me an intense look, so I grabbed my phone, which had been peacefully lying on the counter. I turned it off, then decided to find the nearest exit for a breather.

Also, to knock some sense into someone. No other than my ex-boyfriend.

"What do you want, Young?" I asked when he picked up the call on the third ring. The alcohol in my system was slowly affecting my logical reasoning, and I could no longer think straight while talking to my pathetic excuse of an ex.

"Where are you, Lhou? Everyone's worried—"

"Are you even worried about me?" I asked, a trace of hope lingering in my voice. Blame it on the alcohol; I was asking nonsensical things. I shouldn't have asked him that—it was like hinting I wanted him back in my damn life.

"Of course I'm worried about you. What kind of question is that, Lhou? Just tell me where you are, and I'll pick you up."

"You shouldn't be taking calls while driving, dumbass," I rolled my eyes in annoyance, impatiently waiting for his reply.

"I already pulled over, so don't worry about me getting into an accident. Just tell me where you are, or at least let me know you're in a safe place."

I sighed in relief when I heard Shaun pulling over his car after I nagged him about it. But I quickly shook my head in disapproval, even though he couldn't see me, before saying, "No, but tell everyone I'm not dead, and I have no intentions of dealing with death at this young age. Please, leave me alone for now."

"Lhou—"

I ended the call before hearing another lecture from him, one I'd grown tired of no matter what. I should've known better than to date my best friend. We ended things badly, and here I was, miserable from my own stupid mistakes. Stupid. I didn't even remember how I ended up in this big city. If I wasn't mistaken, I was two and a half hours away from my hometown.

Damn it, am I running away? Of course, I am, idiot. As far as I can remember, Lhou Anderson has never run away from his problems—until today.

I couldn't take it anymore. The pain was too much for me to handle, and I thought no one could save me.

"Never mind getting wasted then," I muttered to myself before walking back into the packed bar.

What happened next felt like a blur. I was downing drink after drink, not even caring about alcohol poisoning. Normally, talking with strangers wasn't my thing if I was in my right mind, but tonight was an exception. I found myself laughing like a fool at jokes I hardly understood. Well, no one judged me, and for a moment, I was enjoying myself with Shaun momentarily out of my life.

Best fucking friends? Let him suck it for once. Shaun Young was a complete asshole, and I didn't want to talk to him after what happened today. I'd had enough of people messing with my shitty life.

Am I not enough? Of course, I would never be enough for a jerk like him. But I deserved to be treated right—not like some trash that people discard when they no longer see my worth, my fucking value.

"I'm sorry," I quickly apologized when I spilled my drink on someone's shirt as I staggered through the crowd.

I tried to meet his gaze and smile apologetically. The whole place spun for a moment as a pair of muscular arms wrapped around my tiny waist. Before I could protest, the man, clearly tipsy himself, dragged me upstairs. I hadn't realized the bar had a VIP area—maybe I do now, all thanks to the handsome yet annoying stranger who pulled me with him.

But I swear on Shaun's life, I'm not coming back after tonight. I won't crawl back into his arms, never again.

There were fewer people on the second floor, and they seemed more decent than the wild partygoers downstairs. I let my eyes wander around before the man pulled me near the counter. It looked pretty similar to downstairs, with one major distinction: the handsome bartender in front of me.

"What am I doing here?" I asked, mumbling a small thanks to the bartender as he handed me a glass of water.

"I don't know," the stranger replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"You don't know?" I put the glass down and humorously laughed at his response. "I don't even know why I didn't swat your hands off on the way here, or maybe I was too drunk to think about it earlier. What do you think?"

He shrugged for the second time before asking, "Why are you asking me that?"

"I don't know," I shrugged nonchalantly, laughing harder in my drunken state. "Serious question, though—why are you here? A man like you doesn't belong in a place like this."

"And neither do you."

I nodded in agreement. It wasn't a lie. Drinking alcohol isn't my thing, talking to strangers isn't my thing, and walking into a chaotic bar definitely isn't my thing. But everyone has their first time, and today just happened to be mine—multiple strikes, specifically.

With that thought, my mind drifted back to the events that led me to get completely wasted with a margarita—or whatever the bartender gave me—since I got here.

Life happened. That's it.

"Do you still want to drink? I don't want to keep you here like a hostage," he mumbled, showing me his refilled shot glass.

"I don't mind," I replied, grabbing the second shot glass the bartender handed me. "I didn't know there was a place like this around here. Is this the VIP area or something?"

"You could say that. This place is off-limits to strangers. But if you have any business with me, you're welcome here any time."

"Business with you?" I repeated, confused.

"Don't worry about it. You're the exception tonight. I just want a drinking buddy. Or maybe you want someone to drink with, right? Honestly, I've had my eye on you for a while. Lucky for me, you were alone and lonely, so I decided to make you my drinking buddy."

I chuckled at his honesty and asked, "Should I be flattered that someone checked me out while I was alone and lonely?"

He nodded, then took his shot in one go. With one final glance at him, I did the same thing, not thinking about the consequences. We didn't know each other, and yet here we were, drinking buddies for the night.

The world kept spinning more than I could imagine with each passing hour, but who cares when I can forget about the existence of Shaun—my best friend, my ex-boyfriend—at least for a while? The other decent people around the corner minded their own business, except for one gullible man sitting next to my drinking buddy.

The newcomer, obviously having too much fun, stumbled into the VIP area. I watched as he leaned his head against the counter, almost lifeless.

I hope he survives the night.

I furrowed my brow, diverting my gaze to the bottles of various sizes and colors in front of me. The newcomer was dressed in a black suit and carrying a briefcase. Was he a lawyer? Probably not. Never mind. I wasn't interested in other people's affairs, especially when my head was pounding like crazy. Dealing with a hangover would be a problem for tomorrow, but right now, my priority was finding a place to stay. No bus would take a drunk person, and there was no ATM nearby to withdraw cash.

The remaining hours passed in a blur, and when morning came, my head had forgotten everything. I found myself lying comfortably on a soft mattress, a blanket covering my half-naked body. Remembering anything from last night wouldn't do me any good, and I was beyond thankful when I noticed some medicine on the nightstand with a glass of water.

"Where am I?" I asked myself after swallowing the medicine. Before I could piece together the events of yesterday, a sticky note attached to my shirt caught my attention.

It was a brief message reminding me that nothing had happened between me and whoever had the heart to take care of my drunk self last night. Without a concrete plan for the day, I quickly took a shower and left the hotel.

The busy street only worsened my state, and I felt like I might throw up any minute. I sighed deeply when everything started to dawn on me. The big city wasn't welcoming either.

There was no place for me here. No job to start over in a city I no longer recognized. Well, I had once been a student here—months ago—alongside Shaun freaking Young.

The alcohol had made everything worse. I had forgotten about Shaun for a few hours, but now I was about to face the consequences of drinking and trying to figure out my life.

Standing amidst the crowd, I wasn't sure anymore if running away had been the right decision or if I had just made things worse. Talking to my ex-boyfriend seemed like a wise choice, but with the wound he caused still so fresh, maybe running away was the best option. Running away didn't signify cowardice. I was just saving myself from losing my sanity.

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