𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 | 𝗆𝗂𝖽90𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗅

𝟎𝟎𝟓

YOU WOULD think, after being an alcoholic and drinking until he was blackout drunk, that Fuckshit could handle a few shots. He had never been a lightweight let alone someone who vomits up his soul after drinking, but as of right now, he could barley stand straight as he stood against the bathroom counter. He let a small groan out, clutching his stomach that was covered by his old Droors hoodie. Estee had begged the group to come to a small get together that somehow turned into a massive party. "First summer party of the year, y'all have to come" she had told Ray over the phone at Motor, while Fuckshit did his best to make excuses. 2 summer ago, he would've said yes almost immediately.

"Fuck, shit" he groaned, running his hands over his face. His wild mane rolled down his back as he pulled open the bathroom door, forcing himself to move from his spot over the sink. He debated sneaking out the window and going to sleep in the car or even just leaving and ignoring everyone who asked him to say, but what good would that do? He'd just end up waking up at the hotel with Brianna or somewhere random.

He forced the rest of his body to move through the wad of people that stood in the halls, occasionally getting called out by people he didn't know. As he made it into the large, bright living room, he could see Ray make eye contact with him. His smile faded as he watched Fuckshit stumble towards him. This was the first time he'd actually seen Fuckshit drunk in months, he couldn't help but feel like sting of worry on his chest.

"Wassup, Fuckshit" a smile spread across Fuckshit's face as he reached for the liquor bottle — as if he could even handle anymore alcohol — and leaned against the kitchen island. "Aren't you already drunk?" Ray asked, doing his best to cover his stress with a humorous tone.

Fuckshit wasn't an idiot, though.

"Chill chill, I ain't gon' do nun crazy" Fuckshit slurred, finding his body moving without his consent. His body dropped into a bar stool as the music in the house became louder yet harder to understand. His eyes seemed to dart from person to person; from Sunburn talking to a tall blonde girl, to Estee leaning against the wall on the home phone. She didn't look stressed necessarily, but more worried. Her eyes were low and she chewed on her freshly painted nails. Fuckshit watched her with curious eyes as she made eye contact with him for a moment before quickly darting her eyes away, saying a few more words, then hanging up the phone.

Slowly but surely, she was leaning against the other side of the kitchen island, pouring herself burning alcohol into a red solo cup. "You think Brianna will come?" she shouted to Fuckshit through the blaring music. Fuckshit's eyes were heavy as she spoke, closing them half way through speaking.

"Doubt it, nigga. She mad at me" he muttered, finally letting go of the alcohol bottle he was gripping in his hand.

"Oh.. well.. good"

Fuckshit made eye contact with Estee again, only this time with confusion. She had the worry look still plastered on her face, but it seemed to soften a bit. "Why?" Fuckshit asked, doing his best not to black out as she struggled to find the right words.

"I-I don't know? Just asking?"

"Y'all are weird" Fuckshit groaned as he pushed himself out of the bar stool and was quickly moving back down the hall towards Estee's bedroom.

As Ray watched Fuckshit disappear, his head snapped back to Estee with hardened eyes. She bit down on her lip as they made eye contact, both waiting for one another to speak. "She's coming isn't she?" Estee sighed, leaning her hands onto the island.