“Adrian, are you coming out anytime soon?” Alyssa said cheerfully, expectantly. The quick interruption along with her rapid knocking on the bathroom door startled Adrian, and he nicked the underside of his chin while shaving. The foamy white cream further down his neck tinged red as drops of blood trickled down. He quickly grabbed a couple squares of toilet paper, which he haphazardly flipped in half until it was fingertip sized.

“Give me another couple of minutes, babe, I'm nearly done.”

“It's 8:30, and I told Vicki that we'd be there half an hour ago. And we still need to go to the liquor store.”

Adrian sighed. He and Alyssa had only been dating for a month at this point, and he still hadn't fully accepted how much Alyssa liked to drink. He reflected on how their first two weeks together were spent sober, without a single whiff of alcohol, but as they began to spend more and more evenings with one another, she began to find excuses or reasons to drink. Celebrations, friends returning, weekends, parties, long and tiring days, cravings. Some evenings she said it was to relax, even though they were the same evenings they spent laying in bed watching movies in their underwear.

Adrian couldn't understand her desire, but he did find it funny how Alyssa looked when he had said that he had never had a drop, nor intended to. She wore shock, denial, and the slight tinge of pity that Adrian wasn't unfamiliar with seeing when he told people these things. She had wholeheartedly accepted it, albeit after some convincing, and only brought it up when she was deep in her spirits. During the last hours of night or the wee hours of morning.

Tonight there was a party. A birthday party for a friend that Adrian didn't know, who he hadn't heard mention of before the announcement of this party, actually, but when he asked Alyssa she made it seem like they were two sisters who had been separated. They apparently knew each other quite well, “from a work event from a different job”, and she assured him it was a must-attend event for her. Adrian wasn't particularly anxious about going, but he agreed to for Alyssa. All of her friends and possible invites were preoccupied, and he knew that a different form of socializing besides that at work would benefit him. Still, he thought, a better evening for himself would consist of the continuation of his X-Files binge-watch, accompanied by a coffee brewed to perfection. Adrian found anytime at all to be an acceptable time to enjoy caffeine.

After he finished shaving and toweling off his damp body, he donned the new set of clothes he had brought to Alyssa’s and laid out for himself. The fog that had formed on the bathroom mirror hadn't dissipated yet, and even after wiping the surface there was a wet residue that distorted his image. Even as he watched, the opauge cloudiness was reclaiming the mirror’s surface. He could still recognize the shapes of himself well enough to determine that he was ready to exit the bathroom for a final examination by his girlfriend.

---

“The shirt is perfect! But dress pants? Why are you wearing dress pants?” Alyssa pondered while nursing a glass of something Adrian hadn't seen her pour. She must have fixed herself a drink while he was showering.

“What? Isn't this a party? Aren't dress pants... appropriate?” Adrian inquired.

“Not that kind of a party. It's not a work party, it's more like… a house party. Of former work colleagues.”

Adrian was wearing a pastel-blue long-sleeved, button-up shirt. It featured thin vertical stripes that gave a white contrast to the light blue beside it. His pants were black, and rounded off with a nice, black pair of dress shoes. During any usual outing that Adrian would attend, he would wear an ensemble similar to this.

“Well, I guess... I mean, the only other thing I have to wear are the jeans I took off before I showered. Would that be ok?” Adrian asked. She thought about it while tapping her glass with her index finger, then gave a brief nod of her head. Adrian quickly excused himself once more and went back into the bathroom to remove his nice dress pants, fold them into a neat square, and put on the creased jeans that he had been wearing all day. He gave them a rudimentary sniff, found them to still smell laundry-fresh, and pulled each of his legs through their respective holes. He eyed himself up in the mirror again, and now that a bit of the steam had evaporated he was able to see his own features a little more clearly now.

Where he had nicked himself on his neck had clotted already, but he missed a small patch of hair at the height of his jawbone. Alyssa must not have noticed it, but Adrian was thankful that he did. He hated going out into public if his appearance wasn't properly groomed and maintained. It made him feel shoddy.Grabbing his razor blade again and removing the plastic safety cap, he glided its sharp edges along the straggling hairs and soon enough his face was smooth all over. In the mirror he created an enthusiastic smile for himself that successfully coated his outer appearance with happiness and positivity, but failed to replace the sinking feeling in his stomach. The one that was not pleasant or positive, but wished to stay at home. To stay in his comfort zone.

Adrian could recall the amount of parties that contained alcohol that he had been to without needing to tally them in his head. He had been to two. One was Douglas’s bachelor party, and the other was his brother’s wedding. And both times Adrian easily passed on the beer or the champagne that was going around, flowing freely into the mouths of his friends. And sure, working at a hotel frequently meant that the social events hosted by his workplace contained alcohol, but at those times he was an employee, and everyone else a customer. The guests drinking in a banquet hall always paid to attend that specific event, and this made it much easier for Adrian to socialize. The only expected of him was merely to babysit, make chit-chat and supply casual information. Outside of that setting, he was uncomfortable. He felt as if his sobriety was noticeable and put him out of place. Not a single person had ever intently pressured or chastised him over it, but it was a prevalent thought that blared in his thoughts at parties. It reminded him of how he was different, of the ways he didn't fit in. Adrian watched the smile slide from his face.

“Adrian? What's taking so long? We need to go, I don’t know when the store closes.” Alyssa announced through her bathroom door, rapping on it with no pattern during the entire time she talked. Adrian remembered already seeing a bottle of tequila in her fridge earlier, three-quarters full, but didn't put much thought into Alyssa’s query beyond that. She's said she didn't have a problem with alcohol, right? And Adrian trusted her.

---

Alyssa and Adrian left through liquor store's automatic doors, after having spent ten minutes browsing the aisles of assorted glass bottles. While Alyssa browsed, and Adrian waited, to be completely accurate. She was now sporting a brown paper bag that curved around the bottle of vodka she had purchased, choosing to hold it by its wrapped neck instead of placing it in her purse.

Adrian had went a little wide-eyed when he saw her pick up one bottle (a “pint", Alyssa had explained to him on an earlier shopping trip), only to put it down and pick up a bigger one (this he learned was called a “quart”). Is that how much a tiny girl like her is supposed to drink? That doesn't seem proportionate…

But the look on Alyssa’s face was blissful. As she got into the passenger seat of his car, she turned and flashed him a cheerful smile over the car's top. She didn’t notice that he wasn’t returning the gesture, however. Adrian slid into the driver's seat as Alyssa finished buckling up, bouncing around much like a child on their way to an amusement park.

“That was close. I almost forgot. Could you imagine if we arrived at the party, and didn’t have anything to drink?” Alyssa asked, bewildered.

“Yeah, I think I could.” he replied neutrally.

“It would have SUCKED.” and her body dramatically lurched on the end of that sentence. She put herself upright, giggling all of the while and fixing her perfectly straight beach blonde hair.

“You ready?” Adrian asked, a bad feeling gnawing in his gut.

“Yes!” Alyssa excitedly exclaimed.

Adrian brought the car back to life and begrudgingly shifted it into drive. He pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. They were nearing the outskirts of the town of Beckley, soon they'd leave its limits. Only street lights graced them with any ability at all to see through the murky darkness. Homes and small local businesses were beginning to wind down, but chain restaurants and convenience stores were still dotting the roadside with neon welcome signs. Someone was hanging out of their window in a small apartment building they passed by, fanning a white sheet into the night time breeze. A burly woman, Adrian realized, and as Adrian shifted his view of her from his peripherals to glances in his rearview mirrors, he saw her lose her grip of the sheet to a fierce gust of wind. It lifted gently at first, its edges pulled outward by invisible hands, and then a second gust stole it further away into the night, making an ugly tangle of it that descended until it came to lie lifelessly on the pavement Adrian had just drove over seconds ago. It ignited a spark in his brain.

“We should stop. We should turn around.” he said dryly, not completely focusing on the conversation he was attempting to have but on the sheet that was behind him. Alyssa, who was energetically dancing and incorrectly singing to some pop song on the radio that Adrian didn’t recognize, came to an abrupt pause.

“...what? Why? We’re almost there.” she said, confusion dripped from every word.

“Well, I… uh, back there. A woman lost her sheet, she was trying to air it out and the wind took it. We should, um, we should help…” Adrian said. He tried to contain the anxiety that was building within him, but he already felt the bubbly sensation rising to take advantage of his vocal cords. A quick glance to his right revealed a very deep-in-thought Alyssa, with a furled scowl written across her face.

“Say that again. I don’t get it.” she said with no emotion.

“What? What part didn’t you get?” Adrian asked. He thought he had been pretty clear…

“The part where you want to go back for a fucking sheet, Adrian. I mean, why would we? It’s not our fault. No. No, no, no. I don’t get it.” and with that she folded her arms, the bottle rolling carelessly to the floor of the car.

“It’s just… well, wouldn’t you want the help? If you had just lost you-”

“No. I wouldn’t have lost it, I would have had a better grip on it. We’re not wasting our time on that, when we are already running late. Are we? Do you seriously want to go back for that?” Alyssa was beginning to put a lot of drunken emphasis on her words: a telltale sign that she was smashed. She should be driving away from the party, not to it…

“Are we?” she asked again. Adrian blinked.

“No… no. You’re right. She can get the sheet. I was, just… ok. Ok. Look, I’m having anxiety issues about going to this party…” he let his voice trail off, hoping she would pick up where he lulled. When she never, he continued.

“There will be a bunch of people there, none of whom, beside you, I have ever met. In an environment I’m not used to-”

“But Adrian, don’t you work around drunk people?” she asked suspiciously.

“Huh? No, no I don’t. People don’t get quite so drunk, in quite the same way when they’re in the banquet halls. It’s different, and I’m in work mode-”

“So be in work mode tonight. Be in work mode. What is it… network! Do some networking tonight. It will be fun, I promise.”

Alyssa bent down to retrieve her brown-bagged bottle of vodka. When she pulled herself back up, the scowl that once dressed her face was now a juvenile smile, blossoming. It emanated with the feelings of joy and relaxation. She casually slipped off the paper bag, revealing a sleek and clear bottle with a clear liquid inside of it. Adrian remembered the smell of it, and the inflammatory feeling that invaded his nose and all of the way to the back of his throat. The phantom memory of it made him shudder, again. Now with hurried motions, Alyssa began to unscrew the bottle’s candy-red cap.

“Um…” Adrian began. Alyssa apparently didn't hear him.

“Um… shouldn't you wait, Alyssa?” he finished. This, Alyssa did hear.

“Why?” she replied, as quick as a whip.

“Well, you know the law. You can't drink while I'm driving.”

“Adrian, stop. You're being foolish, now. You know how easy the cops are here. Some people at work even say that they smell whiskey on the cops breath when they've been pulled over before.” she paused to finally remove the cap and take a small, fast swig of vodka. Adrian grimaced. Alyssa did not.

“Besides, it's legal to have open alcohol in the car… there's, like, no chance that a cop will see me drinking. I'll drink below the window, I promise. Ok, baby?” she looked over at him amicably, as if they had just made a compromise.

“I… fine. Just promise me you'll drink below the windows, ok? This is a hot spot for the police, I see them parked on the side of the road here all of the time.” Adrian warned.

“No, not anymore. I think they moved on to a new spot recently.”

“Where did you hear that?” Adrian asked. He had remembered seeing a police car parked somewhere nearby on his way over to Alyssa’s, just today.

“I saw one-"

“A friend from work,” she interjected, “she said she sees them all of the time by her place. On the other side of town. But yes, I promise I'll drink below the- oh crap!” she sputtered.

“What?” Adrian said, already putting his foot on the brake.

“The time! It's 9:14! Let's go, Adrian! We're getting close, why are you slowing down?” and with that, Alyssa turned up the volume on the radio and began to groove to the music, nursing occasionally from her bottle.

---

The red and blue lights took turns doing their revolving dance inside of Adrian’s car. His open window let in chilly autumn air and revealed an uncomfortable silence now that he had let his car's engine stop. The officer, who had just finished a very thorough interrogation about Adrian’s sobriety, was now finishing up a much shorter and friendlier chat with Alyssa. It turns out that, despite Adrian’s initial and repeated warnings, Alyssa was caught stealing sips from her bottle. Since the moment he heard the sirens he had been shaking as if death was freezing him over. Passing the sobriety tests did little to take away the tension, and how little Alyssa seemed to care only drove more fear into him. Like he had taken her share of the stress along with his own.

“Ok officer… yes officer… uh huh, yes… I won't. You're right. Yes. Ok.... thank you.” Alyssa apparently was bored with the scolding she was getting, giving non-committing replies like she would if the police officer was her parent. Adrian saw him jotting rapidly on a wide notepad.

“...a lot of you think that these lax laws in West Virginia mean that you can run right over the rest of the laws we have. I catch one of you cruising by, speeding no less and drinking like you're at home, at least three times a week. Well, I'll say it to you like I say it to the rest of them: West Virginia law states that you cannot drink inside of a vehicle, ma'am. You must wait until you arrive at your destination and get inside before you drink.”

Alyssa was nodding, but as the man continued his monologue and writing she began to noticeably lose more and more of her focus. When he finished, she wasn't looking at him anymore, but at her hands as she fiddled with a bit of ripped off paper bag. Adrian was sitting straight and devoting all of his attention to Alyssa’s scolding as if it was his own, despite already receiving a much more stern verbal lashing just minutes ago. Finally, and with dramatic flair, the officer ripped a double set of sheets from his pad: one yellow and one white. The yellow was on the back, which he separated, folded and tucked in his pocket. The white was given to Alyssa, and as she stared at it Adrian was able to steal a glimpse at the part he was most curious about: AMOUNT OWED: $98.89. Adrian’s breath caught in his throat. Nearly $100 dollars! That's insane, he thought as the police officer wrapped up what he was saying and walked back to his squad car.

“Alyssa?” Adrian asked, immediately. No response.

“Alyssa? We have to talk. That was bad, you-"

“ADRIAN?” George shouted from beyond the car Adrian was sitting in. “ADRIAN, OPEN THIS DOOR.”

---