His confession

THIRD PERSON POV

"Get me another bottle," Jamal ordered brashly, gulping down the last drink of his glass. He was drunk and disoriented and it was more alcohol-speaking than it was him.

The bartender had a conflicted look on his face at the order. His gaze swept through the small center table, littered with over ten bottles of tequila. It would be unreasonable to get him another bottle when he looked pretty wasted.

"Have you gone deaf, fatso?!" Jamal slurred, pointing drunkenly at the man who was standing a few distances away from him.

He was in a nightclub, locked up in the VIP lounge away from the craziness downstairs. He'd been a regular here for the past week and it just might go on for a while.

He'd never been much of a drinker and had always been conscious of the amount of alcohol he consumed. But ever since he had his fallout with Jordy, it had been hard.

Nah, 'hard' doesn't come close to describing what it had been like for him. It had been hell. It had been miserable. It had