Chapter Text
So its finally come to this. After all the two of you have been through...its over. Its really, truly, fucking over.
You stare at your computer screen, biting back tears and anger before you finally close your laptop.
Fuck him. Fuck Dirk Strider. Do you know what you need right now? A drink.
You stumble across your room to your cabinet full of alcohol, accidentally stepping on a vodka mutini’s tail. It hisses at you and scampers away, as if you say “Fuck you Ro-Lal, you’re already falling all over the place. Do you really think you need more in your system you lousy drunk?!”
“Fuck you Mr. Fluffington!” You sob out, losing balance and crashing into the cabinet. You cry as you allow yourself to slide down onto the floor. A bottle of vodka falls out of the now open cabinet and hits your head on its way down. You cry even harder as one hand rubs the now sore top of your head, and the other reaches for the bottle that just rolled away.
You’re curled up in fetal position, nursing the bottle as if your life depends on it, choking out strangled sounding sobs. You’re trying to forget every moment you had with Dirk fucking Strider.
***
-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] --
TG: heyyy!
TT: Hey. May I ask who this is?
TG: lol srue! my names roxxy :3 who r u?
TG: *rxoy
TG: *8 Roxy
TT: Nice to meet you Roxy, my name is Dirk. Dirk Strider.
TG: HOPY SHIT. STIRDER?
TG: likee from the movies n shit?
TT: Yeah, thats me.
TT: Or well, its my brother.
TG: gogdamn that is too fuckin cool
TT: Yeah. Hey could I ask you a personal question?
TG: yea shoot ;3
TT: Are you drunk right now?
TG: ….....no
TG: yea
TT: Its not even 5 pm yet.
TG: maybes not fro you!
TT: Oh, well then. Suit yourself. I have to go now actually, but it was nice meeting you.
TG: nice meetin u too di-stri
TG: tahts what imma call you now
TT: Okay. Then I’ll call you Ro...what is your last name?
TG: Lasloned!
TG: *lalonde lol
TT: Nice meeting you Ro-Lal.
-- timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] --
You smile to yourself, bringing your half-empty martini glass--three olives--to your lips. You've only just met him, but you think you're going to like this Di-Stri.