The Fallen Angel

35.Party goes wrong

The hideout was alive with the pulse of loud music, enveloping us in its rhythm as if we'd stumbled into a nightclub in the middle of nowhere. Everywhere I looked, there was a sense of luxury, with sleek furniture and dim lighting setting the scene for what promised to be a wild night. The table was littered with an assortment of vodka bottles and other questionable beverages, like a boozy buffet for the adventurous. Guys were eagerly indulging in every sip of alcohol, their laughter mingling with the intoxicating scent that hung heavy in the air.

Meanwhile, in the corners of the room, clouds of smoke billowed from illicit cigarettes and joints, adding to the hazy atmosphere. And amidst it all, couples were tangled up on couches, engaged in passionate kisses that would make even the most seasoned rom-com enthusiast blush. Ah, just another glamorous evening in the world of underground partying—where the drinks flow freely, the music never stops, and the drama is always served with a side of humor.

The air was thick with the unmistakable aroma of alcohol, hitting you like a punch in the face as soon as you walked through the door. It was like being engulfed in a cloud of vodka and regret, with the scent of illegal substances adding an extra kick to the mix. As the party kicked into high gear, the girls wasted no time in dragging the guys off to separate rooms, like a pack of wolves on the prowl for unsuspecting prey. And amidst the chaos, some of the boys found themselves shirtless, probably thanks to a combination of liquid courage and questionable decision-making skills.

"Drink! Drink! Drink!" the crowd chanted, urging me to join in on the alcoholic festivities. But there I was, sipping on my trusty Coke like it was the elixir of life. Little did they know, that innocent-looking soda hit me harder than a shot of tequila. As I held my ground, resisting the peer pressure to indulge in the hard stuff, the guys couldn't help but tease me mercilessly, treating me like the designated driver at a frat party. "Hey, look at little miss goody-two-shoes over here, can't handle a little bit of liquid courage?" they jeered, their laughter echoing through the room.

I innocently sipped on my Coke, unaware that some mischievous soul had spiked it with alcohol, the guys couldn't help but find the situation utterly hilarious. "Look at her, thinking she's just enjoying a nice, refreshing beverage," one of them chuckled, nudging his friend with a smirk. "Little does she know, she's about to be the life of the party whether she likes it or not!" another chimed in, stifling a laugh. And as I continued to sip away obliviously, they couldn't resist exchanging knowing glances and sharing a few inside jokes about my unwitting participation in their alcohol-fueled shenanigans.

As I blinked blearily at my drink, the realization slowly dawned on me: "Wait, this is alcohol?" I mumbled incredulously, my words slurring together like a bad karaoke rendition. With two bottles down the hatch, the room suddenly felt like it was doing the cha-cha around me, and I couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Why is everything spinning?" But instead of sympathy, all I got was a chorus of laughter from the guys, their amused chuckles ringing in my ears like a drunken symphony.

"Hey, looks like someone's finally catching up to the party!" one of the guys teased, his words punctuated by a chorus of laughter. "Better hold on tight, princess, 'cause it's gonna be a wild ride!" another quipped, earning him a round of chuckles from the rest of the group. As I struggled to make sense of the swirling chaos around me, their playful jabs only served to remind me that I was in for a night I wouldn't soon forget—whether I liked it or not.

"Well, well, well, looks like the kiddo finally stumbled into the grown-ups' party," Hazel chimed in, her laughter bubbling over as she plopped down on the couch armrest. "Sorry, sweet cheeks, but we're fresh out of Coke—only the hard stuff here," she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. As the room spun around me and the reality of my predicament sank in, I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Ah, just another classic Hazel prank—where the punchline hits harder than the drinks.

As the guy offered me a cigarette with a smirk, I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Here you go, you'll like it," he said confidently, clearly convinced he was doing me a favor. But as the rest of the guys inched closer, their intentions becoming increasingly clear, I suddenly found myself struggling to maintain my composure.

I attempted to hold onto my glass, but my coordination seemed to have taken a vacation without me. With the world spinning around me like a malfunctioning carousel, I realized I was in way over my head. Small, unintelligible sounds escaped my lips as I tried to muster up some semblance of sobriety amidst the chaos. Ah, just another hilarious moment in the life of the designated sober friend—where even the simplest tasks become Herculean feats in the midst of a wild party.

As the boy leaned in closer, his breath warm against my neck, I couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably. "You smell nice," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down my spine. Before I could react, another guy joined in, his hands wandering over my chest and neck like he owned the place. I tried to move away, but it was like I was surrounded by a pack of wolves, each one more persistent than the last.

And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, a guy appeared out of nowhere, forcefully prying open my mouth and pouring vodka down my throat. I struggled to shake my head free, but their grip on my cheeks was relentless. "Hazel!" I called out, my voice trembling with desperation as my sober mind raced to make sense of the chaotic situation. Ah, just another wild night in the jungle that is the party scene—where boundaries are blurred and personal space is a distant memory.

Hazel let out a chuckle, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she surveyed the scene. "Alright, guys, who's up for some fun?" she announced, prompting the guys to settle in while the girls eagerly soaked in the chaos unfolding around them. "Let's kill it out!" the girls cheered, their voices echoing through the room as they embraced the wild energy of the moment.

Meanwhile, I found myself stumbling aimlessly, my movements erratic and unsteady. I tried to call out, but my words came out as mumbled gibberish, lost in the whirlwind of confusion. Just as I felt myself teetering on the brink of collapse, a hand reached out and caught me. "There you are," a familiar voice said, cutting through the haze of my disorientation. I looked up, my vision blurry and my thoughts scattered. "You—" I began to reply, but before I could finish my sentence, I found myself falling into his chest, my world spinning out of control.