I was startled awake by a continuous ringing in my ears...one I thought my hangover had generated, only to be surprised that the fire alarm was sounding. “Shit,” I mumbled under my breath. I rolled over and tried to ignore the blaring noise. With no luck, I grabbed the nearest sweater I could find and trudged down the stairs, bumping into Sidda on my way out. She turned back with a sneer and nudged me. She never did care for me much. I could hear the sirens of the fire truck in the distance, hurrying to save the building they thought was in flames. Just my luck though, no smoke was billowing out. A false alarm. I had hoped this dump would be burned to a crisp. It certainly deserved to be. I reached into my right pocket to fetch a cigarette, only to find nothing but lent. I began to make my way over to the pub. Hopefully there’d be some drunk left over from the night before who would let me bum one. I hadn’t had a drink in nearly 8 hours…I was desperate for a taste of anything with liquor. Anything to make me forget the events of the morning. My mother used to take me down to the diner on the corner when I was little. She’d bundle up my cousin Margaux and me and lead us to sit alone in a booth with a cup of lukewarm hot chocolate. Margaux always looked as though she was mortified, but I used to pretend I was drinking coffee in New York City, waiting for my big break as an actress. My mother would walk across the street to the theater, and return hours later with her make up smeared and the smell of vodka streaming from her pores.