Chapter Text
Loving money is hard.
Loving money on the ground is even harder.
But suppose, that’s why you became a doctor. Having ‘morals’ and ‘noble ideas’ is fun, sure, but having money? That’s everything. Especially to someone just trying to survive.
Suppose that’s also why no one's hired you yet. What's the saying? Karmas a bitch?
“Comee on man!! Just one more drink!”
“Hell no!! You’re lucky I haven’t called the hell guard yet, you fiend!” The outside air is cold, but you barely feel it as alcohol continues to warm your body. Stumbling slightly as you’re kicked out of the bar, you clutch your cane to your chest and turn back, mustering up the biggest, most pathetic, kicked puppy look you could.
“Now get the fuck out of my bar, and don’t come back!” The door is slammed in your face. It’s official, you’re pathetic.
‘Maybe I should just lay down on the ground and die. Yeah, that sounds nice’ But, before you could, you’re stopped by the sound of footsteps. Loud, jittery footsteps that could only belong to one person.
“Heyy Mx. Bad-leg!! Which bar is this now? The fifth? Tenth?”
“Fuck off Jabber.” He doesn’t, instead he giggles like seeing you wet and suffering is the most fun he’s ever had.
“Damn! Angry as ever huh?” You turn to face him, and much to your dismay, he looks the same as always. Stupid smirk, stupid walk, stupid face.
“What do you want?”
“Who says I want anything!” A beat of silence passes as you raise an eyebrow, entirely unconvinced.
“Alright, alright! Boss wanted to know if you’re done with your temper tantrum yet.” Right. Temper tantrum. At least, that’s what he called it before you left. Although, maybe in a way that is what it was.
For a moment, it’s silent as you down at yourself. A mess. A wet, dishevelled mess that hasn’t washed, drank, or eaten anything besides booze in days. Because that’s what having morals gets you on the ground. Nothing but a mess.
“..I’m done.” You don’t have to look at him to know his grin widened. Before you could blink, he appeared beside you, throwing an arm on your shoulder, grip too tight to be friendly.
“Glad to hear it! Now let’s go before the boss starts getting angry!” Just like that, you follow, devoid of morals, devoid of personal choice. Truly pathetic.