It might look as if Winnie's words fell on deaf ears, but trust me, I'm trying to get my s**t together, but I'm doing it my way. This time, I was sitting, perched on a stool, my eyes fixed on the bartender as he slid shot after shot in front of me.
I gulped each one down recklessly, my throat had become familiar with the burning taste of the liquor. Even the music, at first annoying, was now a melody to my ears.
The bartender's eyes narrow, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity as I gulp down each glass, but I wave him off with a dismissive smile. "I got this," I assure him, my voice steady despite the growing haze in my head.
The bartender, seemingly convinced that I was fine, mixed more drinks for me and I consumed them as soon as he was done. The music in the club momen
