the night had been a blur — despite it being a sunday night, the bar had been bumping from the moment they opened. the dark haired male had stood on his boot covered feet for what seemed like an entire lifetime and his hands were beginning to shake. another weakness, another craving. his alcoholics anonymous group had made up a cheesy fucking motto that often made jack silently chuckle to himself. ( don’t be mean and stay clean ) jack would never understand why his fellow group members had made up a motto like that for themselves, but once a week, he muttered the words and rolled his eyes. as he stood in the back alley of the bar, he lit a cigarette and tried to shake the craving, the burning sensation in the back of his throat. “only employees are allowed back here, so i’d get moving before the boss comes around.”
