He really needed to find a new way to torture himself. But why, when the bar knew his favorite drink by now (Bourbon, like it's so hard) and he didn't have to stumble far to find his way back home after. His condo was on the next block over, after all. So the warlock made his way back to the little dive bar that he'd been frequenting over the past few weeks. As he walked in, the bartender, Joe, tipped his head in acknowledgement, knowing he'd get another big tip since Christian didn't care how much he slid his platinum card once he got past a certain drink limit. The man was making his way to his favorite little back booth where he could watch and yet be left alone, but his eyes were drawn to the dance floor, where a pretty blonde was moving all too well to a song. Christian couldn't even tell you what song was playing, but he knew a good dancer when he saw one. Smirking, he took a moment to admire her figure before he made his way to the usual booth and took a seat. Tipping his head was all it took to start the shots coming his way and five minutes later, Christian was set up with a bottle of Bourbon all to himself and a glass ready to be filled for the next few hours. He continued to watch the dancers and listen to the karaoke. Some weren't that bad, but most were just terrible. Of course, as the glass kept getting emptied, the singers all sounded better and better. Soon enough, Christian stumbled his own way to the stage, telling the DJ to play some "Love Yourself." He had no idea why he chose that song. He didn't know one word to it, but it sounded good, so Christian started slurring his way through the song, thought of course he had to use the F word instead of Love, cause why not? That's what it had to stand for, right? ![]() |