in hindsight, you now know that accompanying angel dust, the pornstar to a club with the idea of getting high and drunk, was not a wise decision. your head is spinning, and the sound around you seems muffled as if you were underwater. the unsettling feeling of nausea has set in, making everything even worse.

as you slowly open your eyes, the world appears blurry and indistinct. gradually, you become aware that you're no longer outside, but instead inside the hotel. you come to the conclusion that angel, who must have picked you up, has carefully carried you into the building, all while you were barely conscious.

“they’re wasted,” angel’s voice remains muffled, but you assume he’s talking to charlie and vaggie, maybe even husk. you hear the familiar, high-pitched voice of hell’s princess but you doubt her words matter in this case.

you feel yourself being laid down on the couch and your eyes open again, met with the sight of red. red suit, red eyes, hair, red cane and a yellow smile. it was alastor. he sighed as he sat down beside you on the couch, hoisting your head into his lap with such gentleness. his smile never faltered.

“oh, my dear,” he hummed, placing a gloved hand on your forehead as he looked down at you. for once, it seemed like he was worried. “it seems as if you do not know your limit on certain substances,” he added, the radio-like voice providing more comfort than anything else. he didn’t expect a response.