The boy on the table muttered half-unconsciously, "One more, please."
"Dude, I think you've had enough," the bartender sighed when he shoved his card in his face. Declining, he tried to explain, "This stuff isn't good for you. Anymore, and you'll be on the way to the hospital tomorrow."
"Just, just give me... I don't care—" he burped, "—about anything."
"You don't even look 25, darling. And it looks like it's your first time drinking too," he slid his credit card back to him, only for August to offer a debit one, again asking for more drinks, "Just give me..."
"How will you go somewhere else? You're having difficulty even sitting straight."
"I, I—" August was at a loss for words. He irritatedly scowled, "I'll figure... figure something out. Now, give me..."
The bartender, Alfred, unwillingly made him another drink. Sliding it down the counter, he warned, "Here. But that's the last one, okay?"
"Okay," shakily, he picked up the glass before getting up with difficulty. His hands trembled as he raised it to his lips, downing it all in one gulp.
It seemed his tolerance was finally reached as he blacked out, his hand dropping the almost empty glass on the counter. "Told you," Alfred released a breath of relief before picking up his glass.
Silence fell. Since the bar wasn't a public one, only one or two people were there, that too in private booths. Its remoteness to the edge of the city added to the lack of customers.
When August didn't wake up even after half an hour, the bartender tried to nudge him softly. "Hey, don't you wanna go home? Should I call someone for you?" he offered.
August didn't seem to hear him, so he got closer and asked again, "Hey, wake up." Left with no other option, he tried to lift him up to make him lie on the sofa rather than the hard counter.
The boy was surprisingly light, and it wasn't that hard to move him. Just as he was about to get August on his shoulder, his eyes opened slowly. He was confused for a moment before understanding what situation he was in. He cried, "Hey! Hey! What, what are you doing?" he slapped his shoulder and freed himself. His knees wobbled as he grabbed the counter to support himself. Raising a shaky finger, he warned, "Hey, I have a boyfriend! Don't you try something..."
His attitude flipped as he chuckled, "Oh wait, I don't. He already left me." his eyes watered again, somehow shedding tears even after having wept so much before. "Why... why did he leave? Was it my fault? Was... was I not enough? Oh wait, I know why he left." He laughed and pointed to his head. "Because I'm insane. Crazy, you know?"
He reminisced, "We were so happy. I... I loved him more than myself, you know?" he sniffled, "But he still left. I don't know what happened... it was all so perfect. So good. Why did he have to leave? We could've got through anything if we were together. I could've gotten better. Just..." he clenched his teeth, biting his lip harshly. "…why didn't he believe in me? Believe in us?"
The bell on the door rang as someone entered the bar. A figure appeared in the corridor, suddenly coming to a stop.
Alfred awkwardly explained, "Hello, sir. This gentleman seems to have drunk a little too much—"
"Edward," August stated, looking directly at the man behind Alfred. There was still softness in his tone, not unlike how he used to call him before. August's love, devotion, softness, all were the same except Edward.
"You....you're here?" he tried to come closer, only to stumble and grab a nearby chair.
Alfred noticed their gazes and slapped, "So, you two know each other?" He approached Edward before explaining, "This guy here drank a little too much right now. Can you take him home?"
"I—" Edward paused, looking at August. He was still holding the chair, drunkenly muttering, "Edward....you're here...Ed."
Alfred felt the atmosphere was a little strange. He took a moment to realize what was going on before asking understandingly, "You don't have to if you can't. Can you at least tell me his address? I'll call a cab for him."
"No need." He walked forward, toward August. There was a certain tenderness in his action as he made August lean on him, his expression completely unlike someone who has fallen out of love.
"I didn't know you drink," he commented casually, not expecting him to reply.
"I don't." August suddenly straightened up, one hand on Edward's shoulder for support. With his free hand, he made Edward face him.
"Can... can you kiss me? Just once?" he hiccupped, "Like, like you used to? So tender and full of love, one last kiss, from the time you loved me?"
"I—" Edward almost swayed under his pleading gaze but stopped. Turning the opposite way, he stiffly stated, "You're drunk, not in the right mind. August, we've already broken up."
August didn't reply, a silent tear sliding out of his eyes.