I was sitting slumped over on a bar stool with a glass of whiskey in my hands. So far I had had six, no, seven of these. Still, I could feel the helplessness reeling inside me. The burning despair. I just wanted to drown out everything. Every one.

I was useless. Even though she always believed in me, believed I was better and actually worth something, I was useless when it came to saving her. She was gone. I wanted to go after her, try to get her back, but how? How was I, Adrian Ivashkov, suppose to do that? Go up against dozens of Alchemists without sufficient help? It wouldn't work. Nothing I could think of would work. I couldn't go ask Lissa for help. Going there would mean admitting everything I wanted to hold close. No, I couldn't do that. But what could I do then? The only thing I could.

I took another drink. Maybe the burning feeling was all the alcohol I had consumed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" It came from a familiar voice. I looked up.

Rowena.

"What?" I slurred. Maybe I was drunk after all.

She grabbed my drink and slid it away from me.

"Hey! I was drinking that!" I reached for it.

Slapping my hand away, she glared at me. "No. You're done."

"I think that's for me to decide." I tried to appear sober. "That's only my second one."

"I bet it was," she said, shaking her head. "Come on, we're leaving."

She grabbed my hand, trying to get me to stand.

"No." I held on to the bar. "I can't."

Rowena let go. I laid my head down, looking at her. Giving up, she took the seat next to me.

"Okay. What's wrong?"

"She's gone," I whispered, closing my eyes.

"Oh," came her soft reply. "Why did she leave?"

"She didn't leave." I thought of how best to explain it. "Her dad forced to go."

"Forced her?"

I nodded. "He hates people like me. He didn't want her to be with me. So he made her go with him."

"Well, that's bullshit."

I looked at her, shocked. She continued.

"Why the hell are you here drinking yourself into a puddle when you could be going after her? Forced her!" She scoffed. "She's an adult, for crying out loud! If she can't get away for herself, then go get her, you idiot!"

I straightened up. "It's not that easy. I need help."

Rowena sighed. "Don't you have like a million friends? I'm sure if you asked, they'd help you. Hell, I'll help you. What do you need?"

I stared at her. What did I need?

"Well?"

"You can't help me."

"Like hell I can't."

"No. You don't understand. Her family, they're dangerous."

She stopped. "What do you mean? Like the mob?"

"Well, not exactly."

"I don't care. Come on, Ivashkov. You're going to sleep this off, then we're going to think of plan to get your girl back. I won't have you writing horrible, depressing poetry until we graduate. It'll do nothing but piss me off."

I smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever. I stumbled off the stool and nodded.

"Okay. Let's go."

On the way to my apartment, I felt something I hadn't for a while. Hope.