mentions of underage drinking, drugs, sex, death
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We'd arrived about an hour ago, and I'd already lost track of Jiro. Some friend I was. No, you know what? Some friend she was. She brings me to a huge party that she begged me to come to on a Friday night, talks with me for about a minute, and then ditches me in a room full of drunk, horny, high toddlers. I had a pounding headache, the lights flashing above didn't help. I felt disoriented, dizzy, there was definitely something in that punch. Of course there was, of course. It's always the fucking punch, I'm just an idiot. I stumbled through the crowd, across the main room of the venue and all the way over by the door. I leaned heavily against the wall, attempting to support myself with my arm and try not to puke.
"Hey, man, you okay?" A voice said, coming up next to me. I turned my head around, almost giving myself whiplash. I blinked stupidly, looking the boy over from head to toe. Something about him looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. You know how strangers look familiar sometimes, like when you're just walking around in a store and you see someone there who you just can't place.
The boy was tall, fair-skinned, looked like he didn't belong. His hair was deep navy blue, almost completely black, but not quite. It was styled in a shoulder-length, shaggy cut. Black, circular-rimmed glasses rested upon the bridge of his nose, his hazel eyes narrowed in concern. The boy wore a black turtleneck, knit sweater, and some simple jeans. Awesome. A cute, handsome, mysterious stranger asking if I'm okay at a party with a bunch of drunk babies.
"Yeah.. I just wasn't thinking and drank the punch.." I managed to mumble, trying to focus my eyes on his. He sighed and shook his head, pushing his glasses farther up on to his face.
"The punch, I told her not to do that. My sister always throws these when our parents are away, never considers the consequences. How do you feel?" He blew some hair out of his face, keeping his expression trained on mine. With glorious timing, I almost slipped and fell on my ass. Incredibly cliche as it was, he reacted, ready to catch me, but I caught myself first and shook my head painfully.
"I don't feel.. Good. Nauseous.. My friend dragged me here and then ditched me.." I grumbled, leaning more weight into the drywall. He nodded in understanding and offered his hand.
"Would you like me to take you outside and call a cab for you?" The boy asked gently. I nodded, taking his hand.
"That would be wonderful.. Thank you ah-.. What's your name..?" I inquired, shifting myself so I could stay supported against him. I felt wobbly.
"I'm Isamu, Nobu Isamu." He'd smile gently, opening the door and helping me outside. "And you are?" This seriously had to be a dream. There was no way this was happening, not with this pretty of a guy. My bisexual ass was quaking. He called a cab before I realized I should respond.
"O-Oh- Right- I'm Kaminari, Denki Kaminari.. Thank you-.." I made sure to express my gratitude. If this guy, Isamu, was there, I was sure Jiro would find her way home safely. Recognition seemed to spark in his eyes, but he said nothing, showing no indication that he heard me except for a short nod and smile.
It wasn't long before the cab arrived, and he helped me inside. I waved to him and said my thank-yous, and just as the cab was about to drive off, he handed me a paper through the window with his number.
"Call me." That was all he said before the yellow death box sped away. I looked down at my hands and clutched it tightly with a smile. Until everything went wrong.
It all happened in a matter of seconds, the crash did.
The cab driver cried out.
The car swerved, swerved off the road into the forest.
The car came into contact with the tree.
The windshield broke.
I flew forward.
The cab driver was dead, crushed.
Glass shards cut into my skin, blood seeped through my shirt.
Heat seemed to envelop my skin.
The blue light.
The screaming of the sirens.
The feeling of floating, floating up into the sky.
The darkness, overwhelming darkness.
And then more light.
It was all a blur.
A bloody, messy, numbing blur.
I don't know how many times I vomited.
I don't know how many times I faltered in and out of consciousness.
Is that what it felt like to be drunk?
To be dead?
Where was I?
Did I die?
Was I dead?
I must've been dead.
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HAHAHA CLIFFHANGER
(end of 2021 writing, updates from here on out once editing is complete are from 2024)
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Spray-Painted Truths (Denki Angst)
Fanfiction"You know full well no one gave a fuck until they thought I was dead." -- Denki fic that's currently being edited. Some chapters are being scrapped and redone at the moment. Started 3-ish years ago and is being continued in 2024. More plot info to c...
