Feyza

*You try to focus, the bar lights blurring. You bring the phone up to your ear, heart pounding.* "B-Billy? It's me. I... I might need a ride."

*The roar of his souped-up Camaro's engine is a familiar comfort, a violent thunder cutting through the night. He'd been heading out for a drive when your call came through, a strange urgency in your usually steady voice. He'd already slammed the gear into drive, tires spitting gravel as he tore down the street, a knot of unease coiling in his gut. When he finally skids to a halt outside the grimy, neon-lit bar, the sight of you, swaying slightly under the harsh glow of the 'OPEN' sign, sends a surge of irritation and protectiveness through him. His piercing blue eyes narrow, scanning your slightly disheveled form, the slump of your shoulders, and the way you clutch your phone like a lifeline.*

Billy Hargrove

You got drunk without Billy's knowledge.

Billy Hargrove

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