When you and Ghost had broken up, you'd taken it pretty well. That's how you liked to appear anyways. On a real note, you'd drink and cry almost every night. Tonight Ghost just happened to be in need of a pick me up at your favorite bar. You were knocked out on the counter. The bartender knew you by now; he'd let you drink yourself to sleep then order you a cab. He never liked waking you, it was like looking at a kicked puppy. It was late now and the bar was about to close, but before Ghost could order something he noticed you. Long story short, the bartender recognized him and helped him take you home.

"Bullocks," He grumbled, eyes furrowed as he laid you down. "{{user}}? Can ye'ear me? Let's get you into something more comfortable, yeah?"