talking to him

wish it was over

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

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karl doesn't like alcohol, and he doesn't really like getting drunk.

as a teen, he thought it was cool and fun, and he enjoyed how easy-going and goofy it made him feel to drink too much vodka or too many shitty beers. it was a silly way to pass time with his friends and, though it was pointless, they enjoyed it occasionally.

now he finds that, most of the time, people's reasoning for wanting to drink alcohol is rarely good. as adults, they don't have time to just mess around and get drunk for a laugh, so most people their age drink for alternative reasons, like an escape from their life or a distraction from something.

karl hates that. more often than not, drinking just makes the problem worse anyway, and it frustrates the brunette that people will turn to poison to escape their shitty lives.

but he's a hypocrite.

it wasn't hard to convince his friends to have a night out before the weekend, especially considering they all had a few days off and hadn't drunk in ages. it was also easy enough to lie, saying that he just wanted an evening away from home, rather than confessing that he is just like any other shitty adult trying to escape life through intoxication.

alcohol is a drug, and karl hates the part of him that has turned to it in a blind attempt to forget his work day.

"get off," karl hisses harshly. despite his unspoken rule not to fight back in order to self-preserve, karl pushes the older man away from him, hating the way he is trapped against the wall.

ryan seems to almost laugh as he moves closer again, his hands finding karl's hips as he pulls the brunette aggressively towards him and mumbles, "i love watching you struggle."

karl shakes the thought off with another shot, even though his head is already spinning and the bartender keeps sending him warning glances, like she knows he's too drunk and is considering cutting him off.

he feels like he can't help it. every time his thoughts begin to wander, he buys another drink, desperate to wash away the memories.

karl turns so the bar is pressing into his back and looks out across the dancefloor to where sapnap and quackity are standing together, laughing and shouting over the music. they had been dancing when karl had left them to 'go to the bathroom' - which was a lie he spouted to get another drink without them passing judgement or worrying.

he must've had twice as much as sapnap, and even more than quackity, since the ravenette is planning to drive them home at close time. they don't know that, though, because he's been consciously hiding his alcohol intake to avoid questions.

so many lies, karl feels himself grimace over his own actions.

people lie all the time, karl knows this, but he can't help but notice that his lies rack up to more than most. he can't stop himself from thinking about how deceptive he is, and how much better his friends deserve.

"just give in, karl."

he'd considered it, in that moment. karl had looked into the eyes of his godfather and wondered if it would be easier to just give in. he was so close to giving up and letting the older man have his way before he caught his thoughts and realised what he was contemplating.