Groaning, I blinked against the harsh morning light. Beside me, Maddy was a tangle of limbs on the couch, oversized sunglasses still perched on her nose.

"My head's like a drum kit in a tumble dryer," I mumbled, glancing at my phone. "We left The Rusty Anchor at 3 AM. And did we end up singing karaoke with those flannel-shirt guys?"

Maddy chuckled, then winced. "You rocked 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. But right now, I need a smoke and coffee. I'm out of American Spirits."

I sighed, knowing her preference for American Spirit Blues. "Alright, let's hit the corner store on our way to a café."

The cool morning air was a slight relief as we stepped out. Maddy's mood lifted slightly, her thoughts fixed on her coveted cigarettes.

At the store, she beelined to the counter. "Pack of American Spirit Blues, please." The desperation in her voice was almost tangible.

With her cigarettes secured, Maddy lit up as soon as we were outside, a sigh of relief escaping her. "Okay, now I can think about coffee and breakfast."