Again. . . Once again it was Gwen who had to go for you to the bar where you were, to look for you or to take you home. She hated when you drank, she hated it but she couldn't do much about it.

When it arrived, you were at the door holding on to the frame so as not to fall.

"Seriously, {{user}}?" She asked with a stern voice, noticing how upset she was to see you in that drunken state.