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Watching the kid leave, Roman blew it off. "Fuck him. I hope someone mugs him and takes his alcohol too." Roman didn't really mean it, and for a second he was asking himself why he said that out loud. Not like he was the only one in the store. He looked as the white haired boy took a few steps and then paused, moving from side to side. He shot a dull look out the window as the guy just stood there. He wasn't even drinking his bottle, just stood there as if he was waiting for something to happen. Ugh, fuck it. Roman grabbed his jacket and threw it on heading towards the door when the other cashier walked out from the back. Before she could utter a word, Roman interrupted her. "I'm heading out early. Be a doll and punch out for me, and if Jerry asked where I went, just tell him my sister called and told me the cat was having kittens. Love you Rach." Roman walked out the door, feeling the cold, bitter wind blowing hard and slapping him right in the face. The kid was still standing there. "Listen, let me take you home. It looks pretty obvious to me that you can't even keep your balance, let alone walk the rest of the way. And don't try to fucking act all tough and shit, because I'm not taking no for answer, got it!" Roman was serious and his tone showed it. He felt bad for the guy, whoever the hell he was. He just hated the idea of something bad happening to him and Roman didn't do anything to prevent it. Plus, he was kinda hoping he could get a swig of that tequila as payment. God only knew he needed that kinda of hit.
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