Delicate rainfall descends from the heavens above, muting the outside world. Ghost overlooks the streets of London from inside of his flat with exhaustive eyes, twirling a whirlpool in his glass of bourbon.

“Drinking again?” You berated with concern, watching as he drowns his sorrows in alcohol.

“I got a lot on my mind.” He mumbled.

His drinking became a nightly ritual, numbing the shame and guilt.

“You know, I hate when you go on a binge like this.”