♡ Or Will You Not? || Cody Carson {COMPLETE}

12. Rats

(chapter with Rats lyrics bc I gotta get that word count.)

Kota's POV:

Well Mrs. Pharmacist, I insist. Fix me up with something quick.

I tried my best to push past people without actually touching them and being seen. Parties with this many people always made me feel some kind of way. Not necessarily a good way either. More of a 'If I see one more person dry-humping someone, I'll down that bottle of medicine we got last month'  way.  I mean, I'm not sure you could overdose on Cherry cold medicine anyway, you'd probably just get sick.

I've been a bad little boy.

I grabbed something from the fridge and made my way outside. It felt good to be away from everyone for a second, it felt hotter than hell in there. But it was probably because I was actually drinking something cold for once that made it seem so nice, but whatever.

I think I'm getting sick.

I sighed and downed some of the drink I grabbed. It tasted way too sweet and fruity to actually get you buzzed out of your mind. Not that I wanted to be anyway, but with the way things were going lately, it'd sure as hell be nice to not remember anything for once. I looked down at it, of course Nick brought something that had almost no alcohol in it. He was too pure sometimes.

Sick to the bone, slave to the flesh.

I looked down at my arms and traced little patterns on them. I hated feeling anything on my wrists, wearing bracelets was a personal hell of mine for a while. It was a nice distraction for a bit before my mind had started to wander to the darker places again. It was never anything too bad, just the occasional 'What could I use if I really wanted to die now?' every now and then. Nothing too drastic, you know?

Better put on my Sunday's best.

Someone opened the door and came stumbling out, sounding as drunk as I wished to be. They would probably just end up passing out in their car for a few hours and wish they never drank that much. Either that, or they'd have to call someone to pick them up.

I've been a bad little boy, little boy.

I walked inside and tried my hardest not to roll my eyes when I saw someone practically fucking in the stairwell. Why were people able to fuck in someone else's house during a party, but any other time it was a trashy thing to do? Oh well, I just hoped they did it outside or in their car because I sure as hell wasn't about to touch someone else's dick juice. I couldn't even look at yogurt without wanting to gag sometimes.

I've got a dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty little secret.

I locked the bedroom door and threw the now empty bottle in the little bin next to the bed. Why we kept one there was kinda weird. Well, I mean it did come handy when you just had finished something and don't wanna get up to throw it away. There were so many crumpled papers in there that it wasn't even funny anymore.

And I'm not, not, not sure that I, I wanna keep it.

There was only so much you could do while everyone was downstairs getting fucked out of their mind. I could either join them or go through old messages from people I didn't talk to anymore and try not to cry. The only problem with that would be the whole crying and rethinking everything in my life part. Other than that, it sounded better than having to socialize with people downstairs.

So we feed ourselves lies to submit to the shadows,

And I ended up going through old groupchat messages from years ago, and cringing at emo they were. I swore I ended every sentence with 'XD ' even if it wasn't funny. Now I just end everything with 'Rip ' or 'Ooh '. There wasn't really much improvement there, but oh well.