Drew Hanover
Cutting in and out of sleep, Drew was grateful that the hall traffic was absent and he was able to have some peace of mind through his drunken state. All the time he had his father hovering over and scrutinizing his every move. It was endless, and home was always a place for his father to point out every fault. Although he wasn't swaddled in blankets in his hammock, Drew was comfortable enough to drift off. A voice calling his name made him jerk out of sleep, the jest of his drunken state being because he couldn't hold his liquor making his lips pull into a tight smile.
[i]"Let me guess, avoiding home until the alcohol wears off some? Well I'd bet anything your dad's asleep by now - it's pretty late. So here let me help you up, you should be trying to get some sleep tonight."[\i]
He wanted to object, but a lurching sensation in his stomach told him that he would need help getting up. Allowing Nizhoni to help him up, Drew chuckled as he leaned his weight into the woman. "My oh my, you must buy me dinner first." He said in a falsetto voice, cracking as his sentence phased away. Humor was still making his blood rush, and despite having slept some, Drew felt even drunker than before. That moonshine had really done a number on him. Walking toward his home, an image of himself at the watering hole with Sarah made him take a serious expression.
"Can you believe that bitch asked if I was gay?" His brashness was out of character, but his inhibitions were at an all time low. Funny how when he began drinking was when he began acting like his twin. Leaning so that his lips were only centimeters from Nizhoni's smooth cheek, he sighed. "I'm for damn sure not gay." He said half to himself, stumbling along. "Do you think I'm gay? Cuz maybe that's why I never get laid, everyone thinks I'm fucking gay." If his slurred speech wasn't indication enough, Drew had shifted into a alcohol fused rant. Throwing up his hands, Drew shouted out belligerently, "I'm straight, damnit! I like tits and ass!....just don't know how to fucking talk to these hoes." His angry comments were almost comical as he wobbled out a few steps, then leaning against the wall. His breath was labored, as if he had just ran a marathon, and once again he rested his head against the wall as if to nap.