In a desperate search for solace, Owen found himself drawn to the night club, where he sought momentary distraction from his overwhelming loneliness. The rhythmic pulses of neon lights encircled him as he immersed himself in the artificial luxuries of the club. He sought refuge in the fleeting moments of hedonism, hoping to escape the harsh realities of his shattered life.

Owen, in his despair, didn't want to hate himself anymore. He longed for a sense of relief, a respite from the gnawing self-hatred that consumed him. All he wanted was to feel good, to escape the endless cycle of negative emotions that seemed to define his existence. But the path to feeling good seemed so distant and daunting, as if it required a herculean effort that he was incapable of summoning.

Owen had been trying for weeks to use medication to curb his addiction, but as he picked up the empty pack, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had run out. The realization cast a shadow over him, revealing the harsh truth that even his attempts at self-medicating were faltering. He was left once again to face his addiction without the crutch of medication. With no money to buy more medication, Owen was forced to consider a desperate and risky option - trying to gain pity from a nearby pharmacy. Maybe, just maybe, he could appeal to their compassion and receive the medication he so desperately needed. But even as his hopes flickered, he knew the chances of this working were slim.

Owen left the cramped apartment and walked through the pouring rain, indifferent to its cold embrace. The rain soaked him to the bone, but he barely felt it as he was enveloped in a state of numbness. His mind was heavy with despair, and his body moved mechanically, as if on autopilot, towards the nearby pharmacy.

Owen entered the pharmacy and joined the line, waiting patiently for his turn to approach the pharmacist. All he could focus on was the hope that he could gain their pity and obtain the medication he needed.