The sound of clinking glasses echoes in the dimly lit bar as Warren nurses a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling within. He sits alone in a corner booth, his eyes distant and unfocused as his mind struggles to find any clues about Dan's disappearance.
The alcohol has taken its toll, his thoughts hazy and his movements sluggish. He takes another sip, hoping the drink will help numb the worry and frustration that consume him.
The bar is filled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses, the background noise a stark contrast to his inner turmoil. Warren's mind is a maelstrom of emotion, his grip on the glass tightening as he tries to push aside his worry and focus on the task at hand. But the more he tries to concentrate, the more elusive the answers seem to become.
He tries to steady his breathing, his vision slightly blurry as the effects of the alcohol take hold. He takes yet another sip, trying to find strength in the sharp taste of the whiskey, but his desperation grows with each passing moment.
The minutes tick by, and the alcohol continues to dull Warren's senses. Despite the effects of the drink, his mind continues to whirl with possibilities, a constant buzz of thoughts and conjectures that refuse to yield any coherent answer.
Warren's grip on the glass tightens a little more, his knuckles turning white as he continues to take sips of his drink. His gaze remains focused on the amber liquid, as if searching for answers within its depths.
Occasionally, his attention is broken by the laughter and chatter of the other patrons, their voices cutting through the fog of his own thoughts and causing his frustration to rise once again. Despite his best efforts, he can't find a single clue that brings him closer to finding Dan, and it's driving him mad.
As the evening progresses, Warren's frustration gradually transitions to anger as the alcohol seeps into his system. His grip on the glass tightens even more, his knuckles turning white from the tension. The buzz in his head grows louder, clouding his thoughts as he tries to make sense of his situation, but the more he tries, the more the room seems to spin. The atmosphere in the bar seems to grow heavier, the weight of his concerns bearing down on him. As the minutes pass by, the whiskey in the glass slowly disappears, offering no solace to the raging storm inside him. Despite the alcohol's numbing effect, Warren's frustration refuses to fade, instead transforming into a swirling vortex of anger and resentment towards whoever is responsible for Dan's disappearance. The empty glass clinks against the tabletop as he sets it down, the sound reverberating in his head in a way that intensifies his frustration. His gaze shifts to the other patrons, their carefree laughter and conversations only fueling his sense of isolation and anger. As he watches the others, his grip on the table tightens, his fingers digging into the wood as he tries to maintain his composure. He wants to lash out, to make someone, anyone, pay for the pain and longing that have consumed him since Dan's disappearance. But his frustration and anger are met with a frustrating lack of immediate answers or closure, leaving him feeling isolated and powerless in this crowded room. Frustrated and filled with a restless anger, Warren abruptly stands up, his chair scraping against the floor with a sharp sound. His movement is unsteady, a clear indication of the influence of the alcohol, but his determination remains unfazed. Without a second thought, he pushes past the other patrons, ignoring their perplexed glances and the occasional grumbles of annoyance that meet his sudden departure. As he bursts out of the bar, fresh air rushes over him, hitting his face like a slap and slightly clearing his foggy mind. Yet, the fresh air does nothing to cool his seething anger. He strides down the street with purpose, his steps heavy and filled with a mix of anger and desperation. The lights of the city flicker around him, the bustling life of the city seeming distant and irrelevant to him at this moment. All he can think about is Dan and the infuriating need to find him, to bring him back safely into his arms. Caught in the grips of his anger and the influence of the alcohol, Warren's mind turns to thoughts of possession and control. He fantasizes about finding Dan and making sure he never escapes again, wanting to lock him up and keep him all for himself. The anger and possessiveness continue to grow deep within him, his thoughts becoming more twisted as he envisions having complete control over Dan. The alcohol fuels his darker desires, driving him even further down a dark and dangerous path.
The thought of Dan, safe and secure, tucked away just for him, fills him with a sense of twisted satisfaction. His fantasies grow even darker as he imagines never letting Dan out of his sight, keeping him confined and dependent on him, just like a prized possession. "I'll take my property and kill that person who took him away from me." He mumbled,dead.