Maria's Point of View
My head was pounding, the hangover hitting me like a freight train. I groaned as I got out of bed, my hand rubbing my throbbing forehead. Descending the stairs in a daze, I heard someone speak behind me. Startled, I turned to see Frederick sprawled on the couch. "Frederick? What are you doing here?"
"What? Don't you remember? Lizelle called me to come pick you up. You were wasted," he cackled with amusement. I rolled my eyes and tried to piece together what happened the night before.
*****
The dim lighting of the bar cast a warm glow on the worn wooden surfaces, the low murmur of voices and clinking glasses creating a soothing ambiance. Propped against the bar, I clutched a glass of whiskey, the ice cubes tinkling softly as I swirled it around. My glazed eyes ref
