Bubbles. They float to the top. Dance. Swirling all around and crackling. Huddled together, like a small family, everyone struggles to stay warm. There were three of them, all huddled in a corner. I watched them, my eyes drooping. The two at the end were small: they were so close that they were almost one. Another stood far away, larger, with a more anxious look. It slowly floated towards the couple, getting closer and closer. The two set sail, circling, chasing each other, until finally the great bubble collapsed. Pop! I couldn't feel it, but I knew what it would feel like. The two bubbles soon turned into one. Big, just like the other one. Soon it too exploded. I couldn't help but sigh. Slowly, I raised the cup and drank. Kobold. Crisp and bubbly. I'm sure I killed a few bubbles with that. More than a few, probably. I've already drunk half the glass. With a soft clink, I place the glass back on the bar counter, watching the ice cubes bob up and down, almost provocatively. I could just make out my undulating reflection in the liquid gold: I didn't look like a wreck; I was a mess. No, I was atrocious. Physically, emotionally, mentally, everything. Disdainfully, I pushed at the ice cubes with my finger, blurring the foggy mirror. I couldn't stand it anymore. Not just my reflection, but everything. I couldn't stand it. I weakly pushed the glass to the side. I tried to study the wooden bar top. At least he was still. Somehow, he still managed to get me. Everything has gotten to me these days. I could feel my glasses slowly falling off my face. It does not matter. I let him do it. How disgusting. Right on the wood. I was hoping it would hurt. I forced myself to look up. My glasses were there, lenses facing down, arms outstretched and pointing towards the sky. My eyes danced along the walls. Bottles of wine... middle of paper... stomach churning. She smiled warmly. I lazily took off my glasses. Place them on the counter. I turned around. A strange look from Lola. "Are you OK?" A gruff mumble. "Well." "Bull. Tell me what's wrong." I...I couldn't. It wasn't any of his business. Whatever. I didn't feel like talking anyway. Tammy and Mr. Perfect dancing together. Some slow, bullshit song playing in the background. Couples swaying. Drinks flying in every corner. She was vaguely like a girl in my art class, one shy looking girl wearing big nerdy glasses and oversized sweaters. The name was Marie. Whatever. Whatever I spun them. I stared at my glass. More bubbles.