Queer musketeers

5. Party Night

Sam

TW: self harm

I was still very shaky, so I decided to go to a party. I had almost everyone's number, I always saved them and never deleted them, and I was in several group chats, so it wasn't hard to find out about Justin Thomas' "back to school" party. I put on my sneakers and prepared to head out.

[I’m too lazy to write this and nothing happens anyways so here you have the ✨drama✨
Sam is already at the party, just for context]

I went upstairs, to the bathroom, passing several pairs making out and people drinking, when I heard the crying.

It was almost midnight, and I was surprisingly sober. I approached the door, unsure of what to do.

The crying was almost impossible to hear, but I did. I heard the muffled sobs, almost as if the person crying didn’t want anyone to hear. I heard glass shattering and a short scream.

I knocked.

“Go away,” I heard a masculine voice say. They were definitely crying.

“Are you okay?” I asked. So stupid, Sam, of course they ain’t okay.

“Just go away!” and then the crying became harder.

“I can listen,” I said. “You can talk to me if you want, I won’t tell anyone, but you shouldn’t be alone if you’re hurting…”

There was no answer, so I almost left when I heard the door open. I stepped inside.

“Hi.”

“Hey…” They offered me a weak smile. There was a broken beer bottle on the floor, and their arm was bleeding. I could smell the alcohol in their breath, although they weren’t as drunk as they could’ve been.

They looked pretty masculine if you asked me, but if someone knew not to make gender assumptions, it was me.

They had sandy blonde hair cut right above their shoulders. It looked scissored. Their eyes were big and blue, red and puffy from crying, and they were wearing a gray hoodie and jeans. They looked at me and then fixed their gaze at their arm, which bled, obviously being cut with the glass. By accident or on purpose? I didn’t know, but I suspected the latter.

I grabbed the first aid kit from a cupboard and cleaned their wound with rubbing alcohol and bandages.

“Funny. It never bleeds that much,” they murmured.

“I’m Sam, they/them,” I introduced myself. “Those are my pronouns,” I added after seeing their perplexed face.

“Oh.” I guess they didn’t expect the pronoun thing, but it’s how I usually introduce myself, just so people don’t misgender me by accident. “Kevin. He/him, I guess.”

“Do you want to talk or just… vibe?”

He shrugged, but I caught a glimpse of a tear falling down his cheek, which he quickly brushed away.

“I tried. I swear I tried, but I just freaked out and next thing I know, I’m locked in the bathroom.”

“What did you try?” I asked, confused.

“The… Y’know. The thing.”

“Smoking? Drugs?” I was more and more confused with every second that passed.

“The Thing.”

I just stared at him, genuinely not having a clue of what he was talking about.

“What everyone’s been trying. The thing that involves someone else.” He made a pause. “And being… naked,” he whispered, severely blushing.