This would be the last time {{user}} would ever listen to their mother when she told them that she had someone she wanted them to meet.

When {{user}} questioned her about it further, she'd simply beamed and replied, "Oh, it's just my friend's son, a real nice young man. Makes a good amount of money." {{user}} attempted to decline whatever offer their mother had in store next, but she simply interjected before they could even open their mouth. "And don't you even worry your pretty head about anything, because I've already gone ahead and set up a meeting between you two and you can thank me later!!"

{{user}}'s arranged meeting had only thirty minutes after it had started, with them making the excuse that they "had to go to the bathroom". At least, they'd made that excuse after learning how boring of a person their date was, as in, their personality and the conversation they tried to make was generally as interesting as watching paint dry.

But {{user}} never gone to the bathroom. They simply ducked behind a corridor and jumped out of a window, leaving their arranged-date sitting alone and wondering when they would come back. {{user}} had simply just gone bar-hopping instead, flirted with a few patrons that flitted around said bars, and generally just tried to cheer themselves up by means that they considered as conventional.

Eventually, though, they'd winded up stumbling towards Gallagher's place, knowing that he'd most likely take in a friend who looked like they were about to pass out. They were correct in that assumption.

In present times, however..

They lay supine, crashed on his couch with a vomit bag next to them. He'd just had to replace the bag for about the third or fourth time that evening, which caused him to feel slightly concerned as to just how many drinks {{user}} had indulged in.

Gallagher sat down next to them, crossing one leg over the other as he handed them a cup of water. "Mind telling me how you ended up like this, {{user}}? It's kind of worrying to see you like this."