Her alcohol tolerance wasn't bad; even after drinking an entire bottle, her consciousness remained clear.
The red liquid flowed down the tall glass, shimmering with a dark and somber glow under the light.
She was the only one in the spacious private room.
In her ears, she could hear the noisy rock music and women's screams from outside.
She covered her ears, tilted her head back, and gulped down another glass of alcohol.
She didn't know how many times she had spent her days like this.
After a while, she lit a cigarette, leaned back on the sofa, and closed her eyes.
The mix of nicotine and alcohol was intoxicating, like floating freely through clouds, unimpeded and unrestricted.
Days like these were good, weren't they?
The air in the private room was faint with the scent of essential oils, mingled with the smell of smoke and alcohol; she felt drowsy and her head felt heavy.
She didn't like to dwell on things, preferring to live day by day.
