Part I

Three weeks...it's been three weeks now.

It was a rainy and dark night, the neon bar signs and streetlights lit up the sidewalk covered with puddles. The wind knocked over trash cans in the distance. Although he needed to watch his surroundings and look where he was going, Val's inner self kept his head down, it was full of hopelessness and lacked self confidence. His head was so low, it was like he was carrying a brick on his neck. Luckily, he brought a umbrella. Even though part of his outfit got wet, he didn't care. Normally he would get upset if anyone or anything ruined his outfit, but he was so broken, he couldn't even respond to it. His life felt pointless without Vox, he knew he treated him like shit, but he never thought it would come to this.

"I want to break up with you."

Those seven words brought Val into a depressive episode for three weeks now. As you could tell, he's still not over his lover. He looked up for once during the long walk and saw a bar up ahead. Since there was no one else around and he needed to "numb" the pain, he decided to go inside. The smell of alcohol, beer, wine, turnt tables, and the old, dusty carpet approached him when he first entered. It wasn't really crowded, but it had a decent amount of people, despite it being three in the morning. There were others that worked there as well. He had immediately changed his mind and wanted to leave, but he looked back at the cold, dripping rain. He didn't want to walk out there again, not for a while at least. He approached the front and sat down at the bar counter with a couple of bartenders occupied with other demons. One of them approached Val and asked him what did he want to drink. He smiled at Val and it did nothing but irritate him. How could he be possibly smiling at someone who they don't even care about? Maybe Val was overthinking it just a bit, but maybe a drink or two would help him forget about it. In response, he said:

*"Give me the strongest and sweetest wine you have."*

The bartender nodded his head, leaving Val alone to let out his tears. Typically, he wanted no one to see him cry, it showed weakness and grabbed attention. He wanted neither of those things, but he could only handle so much. He laid his head down on the granite counter, finally letting out his tears. He didn't want to cry, not here, not now. Why did he have to cry about it? Val didn't even know to answer to that, he was too upset to think about anything else but Vox and his sweet, cool red wine he was about to get. He already began to imagine the taste and feeling, but his thought got drowned out by Vox and heartbreak. He clenched his hands together, forming them into fists. He just wanted to die, but he knew he was already dead, but he didn't want to exist anymore. It was crazy how love could completely change someone. Val used to love himself a lot, always was self confident, and now he wanted to hide from the hellish ways in this world. He heard the bartender come back and gently place the glass of wine on the counter, leaving Val alone with his coping mechanism. He sat up, quickly wiping his tears so that he would bring attention to no one. All he wanted was to go home, lay down in his bed and never wake up again. He looked at the dark red wine that filled the glass. He grabbed it, feeling like he had the answers to all his problems in arms reach. He slowly started to drink it, feeling his heartache because of Vox. The taste was sweet and strong as expected. He didn't want to think of him, but he couldn't get him out of his mind no matter what he did, so he wondered what the point of drinking was. He never knew why, but it felt so damn good. He quickly shrugged it off, continuing to drink the glass of wine he wished he had an unlimited supply of. It felt like the more he drunk, the more blurred out everything else was. His body felt weak and he couldn't feel pain after a couple more glasses. The noises, his vision, everything just felt nonexistent, like he was in his own little world of peace and quiet. It got so quiet, it felt like he could hear his own heartbeat. He continued to drink, glass after glass after glass. His stomach roared as he consumed for alcohol. The more he drunk, the less he thought about Vox so who cares? That's what Val thought before the bartender looked at his empty wine glasses next to him. Val gave him a neutral expression and then cracked a weak smile, laughing at the guy because he was drunk. The confused bartender, took all of his glasses and told him that he needed a break. Val wasn't too drunk, but he was drunk enough to have different reactions to certain things. Most people had left at this point, so the only things that could be heard were the TVs scatter around the bar and the loud, thundering rain. However, the silence didn't last for too long though. The doorbell rung, meaning that someone had came in and Val, being as drunk as he was, hoped that it was Vox.