C.J. was going through a rough patch. A lot rougher that he's had before and he was feeling really really bad. And at that point, alcohol felt like the best solution.

He wasn't in his right mind and so he gave in. C.J. just went to a bar, walked in, sat on a stool behind the counter, and ordered a drink.

First one down. Second one. Third. Forth. Fifth. Soon he lost count and was straight out drunk.

"Give me another." C.J. said, placing his empty glass on the counter, nodding at the bartender.

He clenched his jaw, running a hand through his hair. "And hurry."