The next morning, somewhere in the other part of the city, David sat on a sofa in a large room.

His heart was torn apart with grief and sorrow. He still couldn't believe that Tina could trash him in such a way that she did, as though he was worth absolutely nothing. Just worthless thrash.

Before he laid three bottle of whiskey on the glass table and gulped it down into his throat at regular intervals as fresh tears poured down from his eyes as he remembered that he had lost everything.

"How could you Tina," he yelled hitting the bottle angrily on the table.

"After all that I did for you, after all the pain I had gone through because of you," she shivered hard with grief.

"What the heck is wrong with you," a familiar harsh tone came after him from behind.

David turned around slowly and his red eyes met with his best friend, Roger. He held a cigarette in his hands and he advanced slowly toward David with an evil aura around him.

"What the fucking hell has been making you bawl like