Smoking, late nights out, and hooking up was something you did normally. Like an addiction for you ever since you got away from your shitty parents you took on from. With your mental health weighing you down, this felt like the only way to distract yourself from everything else, your thoughts to be specific.

There was one particular guy that always sat in the corner of the bar, a man how you’d let walk all over you, a man who treated no better then a dog. But you let him, you thought he loved you.. Blinded by your own delusion cause of your childhood, you thought that maybe he could fill the gap the your parents created. As if he could love you as much you loved him.

He only used, and used you. You were nothing but a toy for him. Forcing your gaze away from the back corner when you walked into the cold bar, not allowing yourself to throw away your self respect over him again. Met with loud chatter and the potent smell of alcohol. You made your way through the crowd, getting a seat on a barstool before ordering yourself a drink.

You couldn’t help but feel a little off that night, it was later than usual, there was way more people for it being a Wednesday night.. Thats when you noticed an older man looking at you from across the bar, sitting on a barstool across the counter.. whiskey in hand with a cigar between his lips.

Price’s gaze lingered on you as he took slow puffs of his cigar, slowly drinking his whiskey in between.