Whose name made you drunk enough to forget your own? 

 "Frankie!" 

There was no sign of stopping him from taking his third shot of vodka, the shot glass already touching his lips and his throat seemingly dry enough for it. It was just Alessandra and Frankie_Vizzini hanging out at some bar that no one really goes to - probably because of the unappealing broken sign at the front and the slightly smashed windows, apparently damaged by some guys who were beyond hammered. The owner was said to be drowning in debt so the windows were never fixed ever since the incident. 

But the fact that no one ever goes there is probably why it's Alessandra's favourite bar ever since she discovered it on a late night evening exploring the city. She liked quiet places the most. No one can disturb her. It was her alone time. But from time to time she would hang out with Frankie and she didn't mind listening to him ramble on and on, mostly because she considered him to be one of her really good friends. So here she was, listening to him talk about some crazy stripper experience. She endured the whole conversation, wishing that she had some cotton buds to stick in her ears. 

Oh well... that was Frankie for ya. As she saw him take the shot, she herself was also super drunk. In fact, so drunk that she was starting to forget her own name. "How come I can remember your name but I can't remember mine?" She scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. Then she tried to get off the bar stool she was sitting on but failed miserably when one of her heels just suddenly broke. She came tumbling down and she moaned in a dramatic manner when her ass landed on the hard floor. "Oh shit.... Frankie my head hurts. Or is it my ass that hurts more?"

The next morning was, well... filled with regrets from last night. Alessandra woke up, hair all over the place and saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth as she woke up in the same bar. She looked to her right and saw Frankie. She clearly had a hangover and instantly began to worry about how her boss would react if Cece saw her like this. Alessandra shuffled her body closer to Frankie and shook him a little bit until his eyelids would slightly open. She had never been in this state in front of Frankie before and it suddenly made her very self conscious to be seen by him. There was a loose strand of hair that she tucked behind her ear. 

She whispered anxiously as her eyes darted towards the clock that hung above the pool table area. Her hand was still on Frankie's arm as she shook him gently again. "Psst, wake up."

Frankie ordered another vodka as he sat in the dirty, run-down bar. Frankie wonders why Alessandra likes this place so much, but he would not complain about it. It has its own feel to it, old school as hell and Frankie enjoyed how it was. Looking over at his best friend in the world Alessandra, he might have been drunker than he initially thought. As Frankie drank more, his rambling became more and more persistent. As Frankie looked over again, Alessandra was on the ground of the bar. 

Frankie attempted to get up to assist her, but after moving off the seat, Frankie began to see the room swirl around him. Frankie began to fall but managed to catch himself somehow. Frankie then begins to move again and falls to the ground, when the world around him becomes completely black. 

2 Hours Later 

Frankie woke up in the middle of a damp dark alley, covered in his own salvia. Frankie got up, with a sharp pain in his head. Also with pain as if a person was constantly punching him in the gut. Why does he constantly find himself at the end of these situations? Frankie uses the brick wall adjacent to him, to stand himself up once again. He then noticed Alessandra, who looked as bad as him. “Where are we? What time is it?” Frankie wondered how long he was passed out for, it felt like ages. Frankie then began to move away, as he felt the sun hit his face. He covered his eyes for a moment before vomiting all over his shoes.

"You look a mess," she muttered. The saliva around his mouth gave her memories of what happened last night. She should have known that they were going to end up like this. Whenever she was with him she always seemed to get in some sort of trouble. As if her morning couldn't get any more better, vomit sprayed out of his mouth. Out of shock she flew back and hit her back against the brick wall behind her. She landed on her ass and groaned in frustration. Then she looked up at Frankie and shook her head angrily. "Let's get you home, buddy." Knowing that he probably didn't feel like walking or functioning for that matter, she willed herself up and put one of his arms around her shoulders. 

As she basically tried carrying him back to his car, she turned to Frankie and shrugged. "You usually never let me drive your baby but I'm driving this time. You're in no shape to be in the drivers seat. Buckle up princess." She opened the passenger door for him, then went over to the other side and hopped in the drivers seat. Before starting the engine she looked him over once more. "And you really do look like a mess. Aren't those some new shoes you just vomited on too?" 

“They are just a pair of shoes, Alessandra. I have many other choices at home, you can call me a collector.” Frankie laughs before continuing to talk. “You know what my father told me? The only good advice he ever told me, that old drunk? That the best drinking cure is more drinking! What a genius! Do we have anymore?” Frankie sits in the passenger seat of his car, not carrying about his old friend driving him around like a chaperone. Frankie actually contemplates the possibility of getting a personal driver, I mean he had the funds to get one. 

As the car approaches Frankie’s mansion, Frankie can feel the pain in his stomach. Oh no. “Alessandra let me out of his car, like right now.” Dry heaves. Alessandra slams on the brakes, as the car comes to a abrupt stop. Frankie falls out, gets up and walks for a moment, before throwing up all over the pavement. I look over and see my gardeners looking over anxiously. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean it! Just a rough night!” Frankie gets back in the car and gets driven back to the top of the mansion, near the large fountain. Frankie gets out, slamming the door behind him. 

Frankie walks into the mansion, putting his keys onto the drawer near the door. Frankie walks to his room, crashing onto his bed. Frankie locks the door, gets comfy pulling the sheets over his head. “It’s too fucking early, wake me up in ten hours. I deserve……. A nap. 

After she dropped off Frankie, who, didn't look or sound too well, she drove back to her own place. On the drive back, she started to think about last night and promised to herself that next time she would monitor her drinking habits more closely. Better yet, stop hanging out with Frankie because she always seemed to get into some sort of trouble with him. Then suddenly she started to laugh cheekily to herself. She would never stop hanging out with him because the good times outweighed the bad ones.