"Bahay~hic! Kubo~ kahit—hic! Munti— ey!" 

My subordinate who was down drunk kept singing a folk song bahay kubo, as he woobly walking while his arm was looped around my neck as a support. 

"I shall— hic! Be a famous novelist one da—hic!" He yelled at the street which caused people to murmur around. This dude, seriously! If I knew he's like this when drunk, I wouldn't have agreed to drink with him! 

"Yes, yes, you will be. You will be." 

Rather than discouraging a drunk man, I just put on a positive perspective, even though I know he probably would never be one. His 5th story had been a flopped. None of his previous novel became a hit, none. More so, it's all very problematic. 

He's been called out once by his viewers yet despite it he still write those horrendous novel. If I say horrendous, it really is horrendous! Mortifying even! 

Like, how come his characters always dies at the end? There was no peace! His current work, the world was destroyed because of this certain villain. It was supposed to be a romantic comedy! 

"Eliza was just, hic, an abandoned child, hic, if she were to get showered, hic, by love she won't end up, hic, being the villainess who, hic, would destroy the world in my current work, hic!" He rambles on.

Then why make her suffer if you felt guilty afterwards? I can't understand how author's has the courage to write a character with such a background. They always had a different perspective on a certain villain, not being a villain, but won't put that in for the sake of the story. Just write them a happy ending, gosh darn it! 

"Ha! If I were in that damn novel of yours, I'd change the story flow and adopt Eliza, just so she wouldn't turn into the villainess you originally imprinted her." I muttered. "Also, it's supposed to be romantic comedy"

We continued walking, still supporting this drunk man with me and eventually called a taxi. After getting him into the car the taxi driver clicked his tongue and scolded me to not let my friend vomit in his car. 

The taxi started and we drove off. The ride was smooth and the drunk man I'm with was fast asleep, fortunately. 

"Women problem?" The taxi driver sparked a conversation. 

I scoffed. "This man has no interest in women, all he think of was to become a successful novelist, despite his work always being a flopped." I remarked, the taxi driver chuckled. 

"Ah, career over love huh? My daughter's the same. She's already 27 yet still aren't married. Youth today sure prioritize their career over building a family. . ." 

The taxi driver's worried didn't seem to be a judgement or a negative perspective. There was a hint if sadness in his tone. 

"How about you then, young man? Any ladies tied you up yet?" He jokingly asked. 

Oh how I wish. "I'm not much of a lady magnet, so none for now." 

"Maybe I could set you up with my other daughter!" He laughed. 

A blind date? I wouldn't mind, really. 

Our conversation flows smoothly, but not our ride. 

A rapid honking sound suddenly was heard in front, as truck was woobly causing a scene on the high way, the head light flashing making the dirver to apparently close his eyes and maneuver the car in an unexpected and dangerous angle. 

There was a ringing noise I was hearing as he eventually bumped into a pole. My blurry vision beginning to fade, as I felt blood trickling down my head. 

Ah, shit. 

I should be worrying about myself, but my instincts turn to my companion. Unlike me who was awake and has support still my friend, hadn't. Head leaning back in a funny angle shard of the window thorning on his skin. 

Damn it, damn it, damn it! 

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't, I wanted to cry, But I couldn't. 

I never wanted to die young, yet I did.