A Heart of Whiskey (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter One - JSchlatt's perspective

It was pretty late. Probably around, what, midnight maybe? I had sworn to myself I wouldn’t drink anymore. I mean, I had a heart attack because of it. So, If I wasn’t drinking anymore, what the fuck am I doing at a bar in Las Nevadas? I could even just ask what I’m doing in Las Nevadas! Was I hoping to see Quackity? Probably. Honestly, I had no clue what I came for. Especially not at this hour. But no matter what I came here for, I made it to the bar. One of the only fucking places open. I just walked in, sat down, and ordered a drink. I wasn’t planning on drinking too much, but the drinks at this place were fucking amazing. I couldn’t help it. I absolutely got drunk shitless.

After about one or two or maybe around eight drinks, I heard someone walk closer. I was planning on ignoring them. I mean, why would I talk to anyone here? “Schlatt?” I heard from behind me. “Wilbur??” I thought, turning around. “Shit he can probably tell how fucking drunk I am..” I just sighed.
“You look like shit.” He said.
“No shit Wilbur.” That came out a little more annoyed than I had intended, but it’s whatever. I could tell Wilbur wasn’t liking my tone. He could get over it. “My bad..” He muttered. I just went back to drinking. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation and Wilbur wasn’t a fan of me. Was he pissed that I just went back to drinking? Probably. Did I care? No.

A few minutes of pure silence passed. He had just been awkwardly standing next to me the entire time. To break the silence, I decided to order him and myself a drink. “Are you gonna drink two fucking drinks at once?” He asked. “The fuck do you take me for? Hopeless?” I thought to myself.
“No dumbass. I ordered one for you.” I passed him a drink. He just stupidly stood there for a few seconds.
“Me?” He asked. “Holy shit is that not what I fucking said?” I thought to myself. Could’ve said that, but I decided to say a nicer version of that.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“Sorry. Just wasn’t expecting you of all people to buy anything for me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, asshole?”
“It means I wasn’t expecting you to buy me anything. You hate me afterall.” Okay, he had a fair point.
“Fair enough.” I took a drink. “Well, it’s past midnight and you walked over to me. You also just awkwardly stood next to me for at least five minutes. Thought you might want a drink.” He stood there for a few more seconds before sitting down, sipping at his drink. He didn’t ask anymore questions, and I was fine with that. He wouldn’t be there for long anyways. He most likely wouldn’t drink that much anyways.