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“Another one please.” You called out to the bartender, half tipsy due to the liquor in your system while you played with the outside of the glass, waiting for another refill.

“We're closing up, no more martinis.” The bartender boredly said she grabbed the sup and whipped the counter down.

“What? But it's so damn early?” You grumbled as she shook her head throwing the rag she used to wipe the counter down over her shoulders waiting for you to cough up the money.

Rolling your eyes you pulled your wallet out as she told you the tab price.

“183$” she held her money out as you begrudgingly handed it to her.

She gave you the two dollars back as you swayed off of the seat you were in, tiredly walking out of the bar and towards your car.

Even if you were in the right state of mind like fuck were you gonna leave your car here for some fucker to break into and steal before selling your car off for some extra drug dough.

You got in your car, hitting your head on the way in, causing you to groan in pain before starting the engine, you closed the driver door, buckling up before backing out of your parking space then speeding off.

You swerved your car every now and again each time you had to snap your eyes open due to the exhaustion.

You needed sleep, clearly. And you were gonna get it, by either arriving at your home safe or by a much less safer way– death, that's what I'm pointing towards.

Probably drinking pink, blue and green martinis that were made mostly of vodka a few hours before your shift at your workplace.

Your car swerved again before you grunted as you had to swerve back into your own lane, getting closer to your destination.

You slid right into your driveway, putting it into park before opening your door and stumbling out, using your butt to close it after you as you made your way into your house, stumbling here and there as you messily took your shoes off, taking your jacket off due to the stuffy feeling of your house compared to outside.

You fell on your couch grunting as you adjusted yourself, eyes tiredly scanning your living room.

“TV on.” The first channel that popped up was the news channel, a helicopter view of a hostage situation as the reporter explained what happened and what is currently going on.

Your eyes tiredly scanned the screen before boredly switching the channel, the news never caught your eye due to its mostly fabricated and over exaggerated stories, hoping the billions of people out there would tune in.

Unable to keep your eyes open anymore your face squished against your pillow as you fell fully asleep, letting the exhaustion hit in.







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