The bar wasn't one of his usuals but didn't want to risk running into anyone he knew. He didn't want to lie about it but he didn't want to explain, either - his first grown-up, adult, "look ma, I did it!" relationship barely scraped the six month mark before it fell apart. People always say that break-ups hurt but those people were weak, he thought. How can it hurt when the writing is on the wall? Surely people should be able to sense that the end is near. With the way things were going, their own end was inevitable, too, and he knew deep down that they were just one more argument away from giving up. Maybe he just didn't realize how soon that would be. Maybe he didn't realize that people were right and that it does hurt. It hurts really fucking bad.

Only Char knew, and he wasn't sure how long he could keep it that way but talking about it scared the hell out of him. What else did he have going for him? Age 28, working for his mom, no car, now no apartment and no boyfriend. Normally he could own the garbage-person identity but he had never felt like such an absolute loser before. The last seven days were the worst he'd experienced since his parents split up, and even then at least he knew it wasn't his fault. Ever since Thursday, he'd been sitting in his room, listening to his Prince albums over and over, and feeling lonelier than he'd ever been. He wasn't a relationship expert by any means but he knew that he wasn't supposed to feel lonely.

At some point, Jon lost track of how many drinks he'd had. It was around the same time that the bartender cut him off, which Jon thought only happened in movies because he'd never been cut off before. He struggled to sign his name on the receipt for his drinks, and trying to find an Uber on his phone was an impossible mission all on its own. When he was asked to enter his destination, he froze, staring at the blinding screen in the dark bar. Fuck. He wasn't going back to his and Gavin's place, or just Gavin's place, or whatever it was now, and he wasn't about to go to his mom's place or any other relative at this time of night because there would be questions, so many questions, and all he wanted to do was pass out and not puke and go back to a week before when everything wasn't so terrible.

Finally he managed to type in Char's address. Even though he had told her earlier that he wanted to be alone, he knew she'd understand, and she wouldn't ask questions, and would just let him be mess in whatever way he needed. He could explain everything to everyone later and maybe then he wouldn't feel like such a failure. For now, he just wanted to disappear.