"I'm cutting you off, who should I call to come get you?" The bartender said, looking up at the wasted executive.

Chuuya groaned, drunk and dazed as he sat at the bar. Who should he call? It was the middle of the night, so most people he knew would be awake since it was prime Port Mafia hours...but who...? Akutagawa? Kouyou? Ugh...his mind got flashbacks to the few times he had called Dazai to come get him during their partnership, a shiver running down his spine as the urge to vomit got greater at just the thought of that bastards face. Before he knew it, he his head was in his arms, the coolness of the bar pressing into his cheek. He had just told the bartender to call whoever from his phone, which reluctantly, the bar-hand did. That was around thirty minutes ago. Now, he heard a familiar cough from behind him, he paused...no way...? He glanced back, seeing just who he thought; Akutagawa. The man was standing there awkwardly, though he still had his usually undeterred and calm demeaner; fist over his mouth as he let out an awkward cough, gaze averting Chuuya's.

"Good evening, sir." he said rather politely.