Controlling Desires
The only one not having fun, it seemed, was sitting idly in a back corner, near the bar. She was alone and sober, yet again, while her friends fucked with reckless abandon. Always the self-designated driver to these events, she never managed to let loose and relax, always too afraid of possible retribution. All that responsibility meant was that she never had any real fun. She was on her third glass of orange juice - "Alcohol free, thanks." - and was refolding her cheap paper napkin for...