Alex's POV
"Pour me another," I snap my fingers, signaling for the bartender to rush over to me. He automatically reaches for the whisky bottle, pouring the liquid inside the glass. I slide it closer before lifting it up and taking a large drink. It burns the back of my throat, intensifying the tipsy state my body is in. I slam the glass down and reach forward, my fingers wrapping around the neck of the whisky bottle.
"Leave this with me," I mutter, slurring my words. The bartender gives me a sympathetic look before nodding and scurrying away. The club is deserted, the lights dimmed low due to it being daytime. It isn't open yet but I know in the next few hours it'll be jam packed to the walls with the same people, the same music and the same atmosphere.
Every damn night.
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