Just another magical crack fic

The Party

There are, on very rare occasions, days when no baby teeth are lost in my region. In five years, it has happened six times. Tonight was one of those nights, and, because I had gotten the "all clear" notification from Magic HQ the evening before, I was going to have a fucking party. Unfortunately, I am old and boring, and so are my parties, but I had plans for about fifteen people to come over and drink my wine and eat my crudite and assorted dips. Charlie advocated hard for a Chick-Fil-A tray, and since he is my most fun friend, I caved. Also, who am I even, calling Charlie a friend and also fun? I must have had head trauma at some point. In any event, I left work early that day, went by Total Wine and bought two dozen bottles for that sweet sweet case discount, and picked up my chicky nuggs.

I got a positive RSVP text from Tate, who, heretofore had been somewhat scarce, ever since before the brewery concert anyway, and I felt a little light inside shine just a bit. I scolded myself for getting in my feels, and told him it would be great to see him. I am not a heartless person, so after I loaded up my cart full of wine and was seated in the driver's seat of my car, I snapped him a panty shot. It has been a while, after all.

People were supposed to be coming around mine at about 8:00 because it was a weeknight and I had my paying job to consider the next day. Imagine my surprise when, at 6:19, I was removing my business attire, and I heard the lock of my front door click. About 300 people have keys to my house because I am afraid of dying alone and having no one discover me until I am eaten by the pigeons that will assuredly fly in through the chimney. As a result of this paranoia, I had no idea who might be burgling me. After I threw on a t-shirt and sweats, I walked out of the bedroom. I strongly suspected Annie, as she had asked me if I needed help setting up anything for the party, or maybe my sister had shown up because she tends to wander in whenever the wind blows the right way. When I turned the corner and made my way through the kitchen, however, Tate was standing by the door with a grin, holding up a six-pack of beer and a twelve-pack of condoms in his respective hands. Was I drooling? Yes I was. Wordlessly, he slid the chain lock and pulled a chair in front of the door before he walked toward me. I love a man with initiative.

It was 7:43 p.m. and I was blow-drying my hair while Tate was trying to convince me to cancel the party and come back to bed. "I've got at least one more round in me, and I think I could probably get two out of you." He winked at me and I died just a little for saying no. "You don't even like any of those people. Or at least, I think you like me more." I swore at his flawless logic, but I had already forced these people to make plans on short notice, and I had like 150 chicken nuggets, so I was left without a choice in the matter. About thirty seconds after I had reached that conclusion with finality, I heard my door jostle and a chair go sliding. The motherfuckers also known as my friends were here.

By 8:30, everyone I had invited was in attendance. By 9:30, everyone was fucking sloshed, like the grown ups we are. Wine drunk is not my favorite drunk, but it does get fun. Someone had a karaoke app on their phone, so some unfortunate singing occurred which was definitely filmed for future use. Once the same person had sung three songs in a row, Charlie was inspired to turn my wine social into a dance party. Alexa pounded out a bassline to some clubby song, and I found myself jump-dancing obnoxiously close to all these thirty-something people who haven't been to a club in a solid decade. One-Hundred-Percent would recommend. All the stars.

At some point in the evening, I had a conversation with Charlie, but he was basically speaking underwater. I saw him making lots of gestures, but that isn't unusual for him. He seemed on his high-horse, so I assumed it had something to do with the skirt that Becky from the office was wearing. I laughed and nodded. He seemed to get more animated at my reaction, so I said "Oh yeah, definitely, of course," screaming over the music. He assaulted me with how quickly his eyebrows raised and his head spun to face me directly. "What?" I said, chortling. Charlie responded, "Well fuck that shit then!" and, having actually heard this comment, I replied, "Yeah, I know, right?!" and dissolved into giggles. He looked at me, a little perplexed, and I was dragged away by the rhythm to go put my thang down.