He woke up with a jolt, his breath fanning against the couch arm only to hit him back in his pale, blood-drained cheeks. He shifted his seating and sat up, hunching over his legs, making the blanket that he acquired over his nap slide down his body.

His hair was flattened and mattened against his forehead, his face in a deep grimace as he tried to gather his thoughts from the earlier hours.

The corners of his lips twitched downwards, before his body crashed back down in a defeated slump.

He clenched his eyes shut, the little hope he had for reality diminishing into the floor as pure black tar. His skin got clamly, and his shirt stuck to his torso with a layer of sweat.

He blinked his eyes slowly, trying to grasp what was wrong with him. Finally Allan came to a conclusion: He needed liquid happiness.

His eyebrows etched on his face but he mearly gave the ghost of his imagination a wide, devilish smile. Allan stood himself up from his couch, and adjusted his shirt that rode up his body and pulled his pants back up.

He sharply knotted the sneakers onto his socked feet, before snagging a ten dollar bill he saw on the couch and stuffing it into his back pocket; Tucked away like his wallet.

And with the slip on of a leather jacket over his pale skin and broad shoulders, he was brushing his way to the streets at dawn.

A quick scent of the ocean blurred past his nose, just before a small frame bashed into his chest with a rough yelp. He scoffed and shoved them to the side, not sparring them another glance before waltzing off rather quickly. 

His legs only carried him so far before rain began pelting down from the sky, beating at people's hair and women's makeup. He simply ducked under a quick shop, his clothes sticking to his skin uncomfortably. Of course, only at a time like this would it start raining.

Allan's sigh heaved itself into open air, rolling his eyes as he leaned against the windowsill and waited for the rain to stop splashing down into sewers and puddles.

He soon realized that despite his efforts of getting to a club, he only ended up at the public grocery store. Yeah thanks n all God, but I don't need you looking after me! Allan yelled to himself, his mind buzzing with thoughts as he looked at his rain soaked shoes, laces tracked with mud and untied.

He sighed under his breath once more, going to the very end of the supermarket wall before getting stuck out in the pouring weather once more. He heard the peaceful pitters of the rain repelling off his jacket and sliding down, and the slopping of his wet socks as they squished in his shoes.

He soon flashed his ID to the burly looking man that waited outside, clambering his measly way into the flashing building. His hair was matted to his head in rain and he was sure he looked like crap.

The thought made his jaw harden before a bellowing laugh seemed its way from his lips. Just the thought of his hair being drenched brought a smile about how ridiculous he looked.

People bumped into each other, drunken laughter filling the air as people danced together in the middle of this mess. Allan slithered his way to the bar, seating himself on one of the stools tiredly.

Within a few seconds he had a caramel colored glass of whiskey in front of him, ice floating just above the liquid line. Something in him was screaming in agony but he ignored it and chugged the drink, crunching his molars down on a piece of ice.