Anthony is now patiently awaiting for the sweet release of death. Anything to either get him away from here, or help him open the door. No matter how much or how hard he tries he cannot succeed in opening it. For a brief moment he considered giving up.

He flinched out of pure surprise as the other man returned. Anthony trusted his advice, willing to do anything noe just to get through this goddamn door. It was a pity, then, that Anthony was a drunk moron with especially terrible hand-eye coordination. He can't do this. He failed in opening the door yet again. This is hell.

Anthony was very close to just giving up and having another breakdown, in front of this random stranger, no less. Maybe he should've just stayed home. This could've all been prevented, if he had. Now he's just crying like a child over how much he hates doors and keys and everything.