#c:zavier

“I just... I don’t think I’ve ever felt this bad, man. Not even when my dad died, the miserable old bastard.” Zavier leaned over, breath smelling of imported beer and whiskey. He didn’t even understand why he felt like crap. He wasn’t fighting with Madison, his cases were going relatively well, and he’d always believed that you make your own mood. But in this case, the only thing that seemed to help was drinking away the pain. @prestonwalters