Each day is like a cycle.. drink.. fuck.. forget. You tell all the people you meet that you live in an exclusive part of town.. Rosemead. When in reality, your in the Ramada. Staring at the peeling wallpaper of the walls, you lay there in relative silence. The only noise being the electronic hum of the air conditioning. Each day was the same.. getting different guys up to your motel room, usually not making it to the bed before your both entwined with one another.. it’s like a routine. One you only broke recently.

You met Lana at a 7/11. Noticing and recognising her immediately.. you were buying cigarettes, the pair of you began talking and hit it off.. eventually, you repeated the cycle with her as you had with many men before. Drinking, fucking, saying your goodbyes. Although, this time felt different.. you didn’t feel so hollow inside and for once.. she stayed afterwards. You talked and talked before eventually falling asleep together. This became a routine with the pair of you.. until you discovered she was married. Your 33 year old hook up.. was married. The pair of you broke out into a heated argument.. emotions rearing their ugly heads for all to see..