Entanglement of Time

Chapter 10: Blood Flow

Summary: Richie appears and tries to attack the group. He makes the mistake of going after Tara, and Amber beats him to the brink of death (pop off, babes); he does get arrested, though.

⚠: Underage drinking, drug use, normal rave shenanigans, violence, near-death experience, Richie's fugly ass, attempted murder, and assault.

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The vibrant chaos of the party spills out onto the dimly lit street, its energy palpable even from a distance. Heavy bass lines thump through the walls of Amber's house, reverberating through the ground like a heartbeat. The music, undeniably infectious, pulses with a hypnotic rhythm that makes even those passing by tap their feet in time.

Inside, the scene is a whirlwind of motion and sound. Young bodies move to the music, some jumping in erratic joy, others swaying in a fluid trance. Laughter and shouts mix with the music, creating a cacophony that drowns out all but the most immediate thoughts.

Clusters of teenagers and young adults lounge around, lost in the haze of substances they've consumed. Smoke curls lazily through the air, pungent and acrid. A group huddled near the back porch passes around a joint, their low murmurs drowned by the chaos inside.

In one corner, a trio snorts something off a makeshift table, their eyes wide and glassy. Nearby, a few others stare at the ceiling, clearly under the influence of hallucinogens, their expressions ranging from serene to unnerving. Empty beer bottles and crumpled cans litter every surface, while the sour tang of spilled liquor hangs in the air.

Further inside, the party-goers navigate a house that feels alive with movement. Some stagger, intoxicated beyond comprehension, while others dance with abandon, their bodies lit by the strobe lights someone set up in the living room.

On the couch, a pair of college-aged boys slouch, heads lolling as they mumble incoherently. Another lay sprawled on the floor, arms outstretched as though embracing the chaos around him.

Amber stands at the heart of this mayhem—or at least, she did until she needed a breather. Though technically, the host, Amber, hadn't anticipated anything like this. The plan had been simple: a small get-together, some weed, and a bit of beer to keep things mellow.

Instead, it had spiraled into this hedonistic rave, far exceeding anything Amber imagined. Now, she finds herself playing reluctant ringmaster to a circus she barely controls.

She steps out onto the back porch, the cool night air hitting her like a balm. A blunt rests between her fingers, its ember glowing faintly in the dark. She inhales deeply, holding the smoke in her lungs before releasing it in a steady stream that dissolves into the night.

She leans against the railing, staring out into the backyard. The faint rustle of leaves in the breeze barely reaches her ears over the pounding music inside. Amber's mind drifts to how this all went so wrong. She curses herself for letting Mindy blab about the party.

Mindy's big mouth strikes again, she thinks sourly, exhaling another cloud of smoke.

What was supposed to be a quiet gathering among friends had turned into a full-blown spectacle. Dozens of people she doesn't even recognize fill her house, and the aftermath—cleaning, repairing, explaining to her stepdad—looms like a dark cloud on the horizon.

She shakes her head, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. The last thing she needs is attention from the police. She's already on thin ice after her last run-in—a fight at school after some creep tried to grope Tara. The memory makes her grip the railing tighter. She doesn't regret stepping in, but she knows the cops won't be so lenient next time.