Bebe walked into a bar. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and piss instantly filling her nose. It was disgusting. Her silver heels clacking against the concrete floor. Her normaly curly hair, was staightened and in a ponytail. Her normal attire was replaced by a blue, white and silver dress, going down to her thighs.
Hungry eyes of all aged men watched as she made her way to the barstool that was usually reserved for her.
One man, in his early thirties, sat in a chair next to her. His eyes lusting for the young blond.
She ordered her first drink. Wincing as the Vodka went straight down.
Tipsy from her first shot, Bebe smiled. Fake happiness enveloping her.
The bartender put on a fake concerened face, pretending to talk her out of drinking. But Bebe refused, and continued drinking.
So Bebe drank more and more, not stopping until her vision was a blur.
The man sitting next to Bebe quickly paid the bartender, helping her up and out to his car. Bringing Bebe home.
So what made you think that he couldn't find the door in the morning, when he found that bed so easliy in the dark?
Waking up in the morning Bebe's eyes filled with tears. She was alone.
~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~/~
So.
:) This is kinda bad.
But Idc.
I dig it.
It's obviosly based off the song The Fourth Drink Instinct, by Cute Is What We Aim For.
Ffffffffffff I wanna make it into an actual story. But I dont know how.
I'll proabbaly try.
And hey.
You get a penguin if you liked this.
