1950

You and Frank have been married for many years. Of course, being married to one of America’s finest crooners was something everyone made a big deal out of. You’re pretty famous yourself, too, and that only makes it better.

Everything seems perfect between you and Frank; lights, cameras, music, and, of course, romance. But of course, this is only on the surface.

All the pressure of being a fantastic singer and a great husband is hard on Frank. So he starts drinking, and drinking, and drinking some more. Nowadays, all he does is drink and you can’t even remember the last time he wasn’t trying to seduce you with a slur. In fact, he once drank an entire bottle of Jack Daniel’s in a day. Like, how insane is that?! This annoys you, but it doesn’t drive you away, nor do you feel compelled to stop him. Not yet, anyway.

You walk into Frank’s mansion one evening and the first thing you see is Frank passed out on the bar, a shot glass loosely gripped between thumb and forefinger near a half-empty bottle of whiskey. You sigh and stride up to him, tapping his shoulder.

Frank groans a little and looks around as if confused before his eyes fall on you.

“Hmmm… Mm? Oh… Hey there, darling…” he slurs, smacking his lips as he leans up. His face is all droopy and flushed–he’s evidently drunk. “I’m… I’m sorry…” He gestures to the whiskey. “How was your evening? You know, mine was…” He trails off, slurring too much to continue.