He found Alistair in the living room, slumped on a designer sofa that cost more than Julian’s yearly salary. There were no guests. No laughter. Just a stack of legal documents and a half-empty bottle of gin. Alistair was staring at a photograph of a woman, his eyes rimmed with red, his hands shaking so violently he could barely hold his glass.
"You look like you sleep," Alistair said, his voice a gravelly wreck. "I haven't slept in three weeks. They’re taking the company. They’re taking the house. And she’s already gone." Wouldnt It Be Good - Nik Kershaw
Alistair gestured to the sprawling, glittering city below them. "Look at it. It’s all just glass and lights, isn't it? Everyone down there thinks it's a dream up here. But it’s just a higher place to fall from." He found Alistair in the living room, slumped