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[22 Weeks Later]

It had certainly been a tough few months for Virgil; first losing his job, then his apartment, and slowly but surely everything else. He'd tried to apply at other jobs, hell even as a cashier or an overnight stock personal, but his last job wasn't exactly going to provide a good review. All because he'd taken a few bottles of liquor here and there. Everyone did it- but after being sick and late for nearly a month straight it was a good enough excuse for them to get rid of him. Then of course once his job was through with him it wasn't very long before he got kicked out of the apartment complex, having already been months behind on rent. At least they weren't pursuing the money he'd owed them, happy enough wiping their hands clean of him.

Shaken out of his thoughts when his back hit the brick wall behind him, Virgil was immediately brought back to the present- staring at the glassy-eyed drunk who had a hold of his hoodie. "Didn't you hear me?" the man rumbled, breath reeking of booze. Virgil's stomach churned. "I asked what'd you do for twenty bucks, bum."

"Go fuck yourself," Virgil answered back, eyes a narrow glare. That earned him another shove against the wall, knocking the air from his chest and causing the man's buddies watching from the sidelines chuckle with leering comments. Frustrated and sore, Virgil's eyes felt hot with tears as he struggled to push the heavier man away. "Get the hell off me!"