Your stomach churned and your head pounded — the last thing you remembered was giving Johnny the wheel for the night and now here you were in a shitty motel feeling like someone had put your head in a vice.

"C'mon, it ain't that bad, V. You'll be fine." Johnny mumbled, leaning against the wall beside you while he lit a cigarette and looking down at your pathetic hunched over form as you propped yourself up against the toilet bowl. He didn't seem to show any regrets for what he did — whatever it was anyway. Especially since it was you paying the price and not him.

"You done throwing your guts up or can we get outta here now?" He asked gruffly, his impatience already showing.