Anakin's POV

Oh, Force…why does all this shit come my way? I thought, slamming my head onto the counter of the bar. I sighed heavily before knocking back another shot of vodka.

Why did I fucking love her? She's a slut…I shouldn't have trusted her. I had just walked into my wife making out with another man. I had been shocked, and I ran out of her apartment with tears in my eyes. After jumping into my speeder, I had pulled over to wash my pain away with a drink. Or two…or three…you get the idea.

"Another round?" the T'wilek bartender asked me. I slammed the glass onto the bar, and the bartender happily filled it to the brim with vodka. I knocked it back and set it back down, sighing loudly, closing my eyes lightly as I let the alcohol burn in my throat. I started to feel dizzy and numb. Good.

I heard the door to the cantina open, but I ignored it, having the T'wilek fill up the shot-glass once more. Just as I was about to gulp it down, a hand gripped my forearm, preventing me from taking even the tiniest sip. I looked to who was holding me back, and I saw Ahsoka with a confused and shocked look in her eyes.

"Leave me the hell alone," I growled, followed by a hiccup.

"Not a chance," she said, dragging me out the door as I hastily paid the bartender, knocking back my last shot, relishing the burning sensation. I had barely noticed that she had somehow gotten me into my speeder.

"What a waste," I said slowly, leaning back in the chair, arms placed carelessly on the armrests. I tried to look at the other speeders going by, but when I did, I started seeing double, and everything was moving in ways they shouldn't be.

"What's a waste?" I heard Ahsoka ask, but her voice sounded echo-y and distant.

"Me."