He’s on the cusp of buzzed and drunk, just enough to still have his senses with him, but enough that he’s lost track of time. Rafael doubts it’s that late, but it’s the first time he decides to check his phone since he stepped into the bar a couple hours ago. He turned his phone off in the face of it, not wanting to get any phone calls from his wife, asking him to come home. Just the thought of his actions twist guiltily in his stomach, and it worsens when his phone turns on to show just how late it is, and how he has six missed calls – all from his wife.
“Shit...” His voice is barely there, more hidden in his sigh than anything. He leans against the wall just outside the bar, beer still in hand as he tries to decide between calling her back, or stretching the time as long as he can.