Ryan

I sat alone in the corner of a dimly lit bar, a half-empty bottle in front of me. A few empties surrounded it—like shattered promises I didn't have the strength to pick up.

One hand held up my head, the other lazily spinning the glass between my fingers. My thoughts were a mess, and the weight in my chest made it hard to breathe.

Eric's words from earlier wouldn't stop echoing in my head—like some nightmare on loop that I couldn't wake up from.

Back in the ...