“I think I need something,” Howon tries, the words stumbling out of his mouth like little soldiers marching into a fire. 

The doctor looks him in the eye, cocking an eyebrow.

“Which is?”

“…anti-depressants or something…maybe amnesia inducing pills-”

“-Howon, have you been drinking?” the doctor cuts him off, flattening the clipboard on his chest. 

He sits there patiently, like a mother would hold her tongue, waiting for the child’s confession.  “Howon.  There’s nothing wrong with you, you’re just drunk.”

Howon’s trying to focus on one of the doctors in his vision, but damn why do they all look the same?  He drank a little…a lot…how many bottles was it again?

“No.  What day, what’s today?”

The doctor sighs, scribbling something on that clipboard.  “Today’s Tuesday.  The 14th.  I’m going to call you a cab and give you some aspirin.  The only thing you should be drinking for the rest of the night is water, understood?”  With that he walks away, the door flopping and shutting behind him.

Damn doctor.

Howon’s staring through the bottle, looking for the last drop.  He smashes his lips on the bottleneck, tilting it upwards with his head, it dry.  He’s gonna need another one for sure.

It’s probably late at night, he can’t really tell, but he’s pretty sure he’s leaped over drunk, crashing down in an out-of-your-damn-mind-Howon state.  This wasn’t a ing hangover.

The buttons on the phone s