⠀⠀13. DRUNK TALKS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

❛ DRUNK TALKS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS  ❜

i can't tell the truth.


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           THE MUSIC WAS STILL LOUD. So loud that it made their ears pound.

It was two in the morning. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were in their Cadillac, slowly driving home after a tiring business trip to New York. The middle-aged couple could hear the music echoing through the neighborhood as they approached the house.

"What is all this noise? As far as I know, our avenue is usually quiet." Audrey Harrington complained, impatiently fiddling with her short, immaculate blonde hair.

"It's Halloween, darling, it's normal for young people to do foolish things at this time of year. Don't you see all those kids going around in masks trick-or-treating?" Eric replied in his hoarse, velvety voice.

"Yeah, I'd forgotten about that awful time of year." She snorted audibly. "I hope Stevie turned off the ringer to not get distracted by those teens."

Eric laughed softly at his wife's words. "I bet he's not even home. I'm sure he's out partying or at someone's house." 

Audrey stared at him. "Don't even tell me that. It must be midterm season and he has to study. You know his grades aren't as good as we thought. He's been lying to us."

As they approached the end of the avenue, the sound intensified. They couldn't believe what they saw. There were many cars parked in front of their house, some of them even standing on the immaculate green grass.

"What the hell is this?" Audrey exploded, aggressively opening the car door as soon as Eric stopped the vehicle.

She walked to the front door, wearing a blazer and a tight black skirt. Eric, knowing the power of his wife's anger, quickly followed her, pressing the button on his suit coat.

When she opened the door, there was no turning back. A bunch of drunk, masked young people came into the room, leaving a trail of stains on the floor, sofas, and cashmere rugs, colliding with the valuable paintings as they danced wildly, soaking the home with sweat and alcohol.

"Steve!" Audrey shouted several times, waiting for her son to appear in the midst of the crowd, but of course it was impossible for him to hear.

Then, driven by rage, she went to the house's power station, hidden behind a board in the foyer, and turned off the lights. All the power went out. The music stopped, and for a few seconds the house was silent. But soon there was commotion again.

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿWhere stories live. Discover now