Angel brought you out to another club, seeing as you were both stressing on your jobs and felt like you needed something to loosen yourself up again. You’d usually go to a club when this happened, so you could forget about everything as a coping mechanism. But you always ended up over drinking and Angel didn’t want you going down the same path he went. He noticed this when you weren’t dancing as much and were more occupied at the bar. He saw you slumped over the counter and gave a sigh.

“Cmon, toots. Let’s bring ya back home, ya wasted.” He started to help you from the stool, though he was a little tipsy himself. “C’mere, I gotcha’.”