WHERE: valentine’s day charity gala, after everyone’s yelled at nate. WHO: @mia-fierro & nate.
For the first time that night, it seemed like no one was paying attention to him as he plucked a near-full bottle of... something from behind the bar and made his way to the balcony outside. The cold wind stung his face, the snow coming down so hard it was a blanket of white. The awning bowed beneath the weight but it at least kept him dry. He hardly felt the cold if he was being honest. He only felt defeated.
Pulling one of his two last cigarettes from the box, he slid it into his mouth unlit, pausing to twist the cap off the bottle before he fished the lighter out of his pocket. He’d barely taken a hit, the plume of smoke mixing with his breath in the cold air, when he felt more than heard someone behind him. Without turning to look, he let out a sigh. “If you’re here to yell at me, I’m pretty sure there’s a line inside.” Another hit, another plume of smoke. “Wait your turn.”
