Trust Your Instincts

-49- Confrontation

 "Felix, get off the table!" Isaac yelled, unable to hide his smile as he too swayed from right to left in attempt to act like the sober one, which in this case, was actually the truth.

 Mark watched from the safety of the kitchen as Isaac lifted the drunken Swedish boy over his shoulder as he screamed in protest, arguing that if he touched the floor his feet would melt into the wood. Mark laughed to himself as Felix thrashed in Isaac's arms, the tall boy crying out in anguish as he was struck in the face multiple times.

 Ken slid along the counter until he was sitting next to Mark, watching the two wrestle in the living room in amusement as he took another shot of whatever foul tasting alcohol he was drinking now. It was a mystery to Mark how Ken was the least tipsy at this point, when he had clearly had at least the same amount to drink as Isaac, and probably double what Felix had.

 He held up another shot glass until it was under Mark's nose, the pungent smell of ethanol burning his nostrils as he backed away from the small glass of caramel coloured liquid, shaking his head at Ken.

 "You know I don't drink, man." He said matter-of-factly to the now pouting bearded man, but Ken didn't really seem to mind. About two seconds later he was throwing that shot back too, gritting his teeth and screwing his face up momentarily before he looked back to Mark, his breath strongly smelling like alcohol and his pupils dilated slightly, proving that maybe he was less sober than his appearance let off.

 "Are you sure you don't wanna just let go man? I mean we're all fucking shit-faced." Ken shouted over the beat of whatever popular song had just came on and the ongoing three way battle between Felix, Isaac and the floor. Ken leaned his head back until he faced the ceiling and shouted, "It's Felix's 18th god damn it!" 

 Mark laughed alongside Ken as he reached for yet another shot glass, swigging it back with little to no effort, recoiling less to the rank substance with each shot he took.

 Mark shook his head, not letting his lack of intoxication affect his night. "I'm having a good night as it is, thanks Ken." He assured the bearded man. Ken just shrugged once more, reaching for yet another of the pre-prepared shots. Mark grabbed his wrist, causing him to snap his head in the direction of the smaller man.

 "He-he-hey, buddy!" Mark laughed. "Don't you think you should slow down? I mean it's still only 11pm."

 Ken eyed the dark haired man suspiciously, before teasingly reaching for the shot glass anyway, throwing it back just like he had the others. "All I'm saying is we're all 18 now bro. Three more years." He sighed happily, standing up and taking two more shot glasses in each hand before entering the living room, ducking to avoid Felix's kicks, who was still being hoisted in the air, crying hysterically that he was gonna die.

 Mark was beginning to doubt that he'd had only had alcohol that night, but perhaps he was just a super lightweight. 

 Mark shook his head, laughing airily as he eyed the alcohol on the counter. He was confused as to why he had agreed to come in the first place, knowing as soon as Felix mentioned a house party that alcohol would be involved. Luckily the number of attendees was far less than Mark had anticipated, only five being invited in the first place.

 He perked up at the thought. Five people. He looked back through to the living room, seeing that Isaac and Felix had now fell to the floor, Felix's screams of terror continuing as he tried to free himself from the grip that Isaac had on him. Isaac was trying to calm the Swedish boy, but he was clearly only making it worse. Ken was sitting alone on the couch, looking through the bottom of a shot glass despondently. But that, plus himself of course, only made four.

 Where was Jack?

 As if on cue, Mark's question was answered immediately by a crash coming from the top of the staircase of Felix's house, followed by a very Irish sounding curse, and then a series of loud thuds.