i.e: Louis’ fucked

The next morning, Jason wakes up in the armchair with the photo album spread open in his lap and the empty bottle of bourbon on the floor. He groans as the intense brightness of the light singes his eyeballs and he opens his eyes, sighing heavily. He had drank the entire bottle and he rubs his aching neck, wishing he could get rid of the stiffness. He sits back and closes his eyes for just a few more minutes.

The sky is dark as the rain slashes down fiercely, literally bouncing off the sidewalk as Jason pulls up behind a black convertible. He glances over at the paper file on the seat next to him and he tucks it into the inside of his jacket as he braves the weather, climbing up the steps and waits once he's knocked. Its been a week since the homicide and he has a feeling that the killing was gang related given that the victim was a member of some gang and he's curious to see whether the witness can identify the tattoo of the killer.