Ryder
I pulled the truck over on the side of the empty road. The engine idled rough for a second before I killed it. My hands stayed on the wheel, knuckles white. The bar was only a few miles back, but I couldn’t make myself turn around. I couldn’t sit in that dark room with neon lights and strangers anymore. I couldn’t pretend I was fine.
I needed something stronger than beer.
I needed to forget.
I got out, slammed the door, and walked into the nearest nightclub. The bass hit me like a wall the second I stepped inside. Loud. Thumping. Bodies pressed together on the dance floor. Lights flashed red and purple. I headed straight for the bar and ordered a double whisky neat. Then another. Then a third.
I lit a cigarette. Inhaled deep. The smoke burned my lungs. I exhaled slowly, watching
