Mi Hermana Borracha Novels & Stories

She asked him why he is calling her about that then he said that he gave him her number, then Mi-cha ended the call and told Go Jii that she needs to go to someplace and she is sorry, he asked her what's the matter, she just told him that something urgent come and she needs to go, when she went to the bar she found Mun-hee drunk, she went toward him and asked him what is he doing and why did he drink a lot because it's not like him, Mun-hee looked at her but because he was drunk he said "I wish this dream was true, Mi-cha is here for me, unfortunately, she isn't and no one is here actually, well I need to drink more with you since your in my dream" Mi-cha asked him what is he talking about a

Max says calmly, interrupting my raging thoughts. I take a sip of the whiskey from the fully stocked cart in the corner, left behind from the previous tenant. It tastes cheap and I can tell it’s been watered down, but what the hell? I’ll have to get Max to replace it with real alcohol some other time. “Boss? What do you need me to do?” Max asks, his tone now more serious. I swallow another mouthful of the cheap whiskey before I relay my orders, “Bring her back.” I walk right up to Max, my eyes burning with pure hatred and revenge.

I say inwardly. “Bourbon, clean, two shots, please!” I let the bartender know that I am getting ready to get wasted tonight. I even ask for more rounds and try different cocktail drinks like Red Sangria, White Sangria, Blue Lagoon but nothing beats this annoying feeling that I have right now. My classmates begin to dig in, since this is buffet-style, they can eat as many as they want. All of them are enjoying it except for me. It also seems that the man of the hour is MIA tonight.

Consumed by anger and drowning my sorrows in alcohol, I found myself spiraling deeper into the abyss of despair. As I took another swig from the bottle clutched in my trembling hand, a tap on my shoulder jolted me from my drunken stupor. I turned, my bleary eyes struggling to focus on the figure before me. The shimmering tears in her eyes were mirrored by the flickering moonlight, and I realized it was my mother, Mother Tanna, standing beside me.

Cora, my best friend beside me said. I just shook my head and my eyes irked as I took my margarita. I shot glass and leaned my back against the backrest and laid my head off at the top of it. I feel a little bit dizzy and light so I just closed my eyes. I already had 9 glasses of Cuervo before I danced with some random guys on the dance floor. "Dare." I heard Molina say. My friends cheered and they shared some giggles. "Okay, I want you to french kiss-" I automatically opened my eyes and woke up from the incline when I heard what Brianna said. I can't miss this show!

Fernando followed in her footsteps, sat in a corner while observing the whole place. "Do you want anything?" She asked kindly. "Yes, do you have a drink?" Amber's face turned red as she saw Fernando staring blankly. "Yes, here's a bottle," she said, taking out a glass and handing the bottle to Fernando. "Aren't you going to drink?" Fernando asked, pouring his glass. It was a bottle of a rum that was too cheap for the tycoon's tastes, but Fernando felt so bad that he wanted to drown in the fucking alcohol, and he had made no better decision than to do it with his little sister-in-law.

I said to the bartender—a petite lady with blonde hair—as I slid onto the stool in front of her. She nodded with a polite smile before turning away. I tried concentrating on the loud music in a desperate and futile attempt to forget what I had become. My ex-mate’s whore. His dirty little secret. How pathetic. The bartender slid a bottle of alcohol and a glass in front of me. “Enjoy.“ I filled the glass and threw down the liquid—it burned down my throat, but not enough to burn away the memory of that stupid video of me touching myself. Another glass. Another glass. Until I could barely make sense of what was happening around me. Until the bartender started appearing in twos.

"You just cracked my skull!" He surged forward, but Miaree didn't flinch. She shattered the remaining base of the soju bottle against the table edge and thrust the jagged, glittering teeth of the glass right at his throat. Her eyes were completely hollow—dead, frozen over, and devoid of a single trace of fear. I shivered, a cold spike of dread hitting my stomach. I didn't recognize her like this. "Step back," Miaree said, her voice dropping into a chillingly calm register. "You ruined our dinner. You put your disgusting hands on my friend. Honestly, you got off easy. Want to see what else I can do with this neck?"

**FERAL FURY PACK** Lucifer groaned as the morning sun pierced through the curtains, hitting his eyes with a harsh glare. His head throbbed, a relentless reminder of the night before. He sat up slowly, his body heavy and sluggish. As he reached for his phone on the nightstand, the screen lit up with the notification of 42 missed calls—20 from Spike, 20 from Mikhail, and two from Viktor. He sighed, his mind hazy as the events of last night slowly resurfaced. Two bottles of *Everclear*, notorious for its 100% alcohol content, had been more than enough to knock him out. He wondered how he’d managed to fall so deep into the bottle, completely losing himself in the process.

Made love to her — no rubber, no protection, no distance. She has to know. I didn’t just fall — I face-planted. Hard. No graceful recovery from that kind of impact. No walking away. Hell, I’ll be lucky if I can fucking crawl away. I’m wreckage now. Pulverized. Demolished by my own half-fucking-brother. My heart lies in a billion shattered pieces at my feet. And I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again. Not really. I grab an El Tequileño from the bar and take a swig straight from the bottle, collapsing into one of the oversized deck chairs. Plush. Ridiculously comfortable. They came with the place — another reminder that money can buy comfort, but not a fucking solution.