"Yeah? What would you call it?" She asked. "If you consented to being in my imaginary book," she added with a chuckle.
She nodded slightly. She knew where that was, though she hadn't been there often. "I was born in Boston, but we moved when I was ... twelve, thirteen. Something. 'cause my dad got a job in LA," she murmured. Her lips twisted slightly and she looked away, because she had no doubt by now her dad was aware of her missing status, and that he was looking. And that he'd probably bankrupt himself looking for her, because what were the odds he'd really find her here?
"You ... want me to go get you a water or ... call someone or something? I mean, I don't want you to fall off the bar or ... die of alcohol poisoning or something." She wasn't sure how much he'd had to drink, or how much it took to get him this level of drunk but ... well, she'd feel bad if she left and something happened when she could've maybe done something about it.