JASON
The warmth from the alcohol settles in my belly as I down another shot. I've been drinking a lot lately. It's mostly to calm me down about all of this A stuff. I know I shouldn't. Alcoholism runs in my family so I'm quite susceptible to it.
As I take one more shot, I lay down on my bed, my phone in my hands while I scroll through my messages. My eyes land on Jason and I's conversation and I click on it. A smile appears on my face as I examine the words between us. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve Jason. He's too good to me.
Almost on cue, my phone begins ringing and I see that it is in fact, Jason. I slide my finger across the phone and hold it up to my ear.
"Y-yes?" I hiccup.
"Are you drunk?" he questions.
How the f....
"How did you know?" I ask, a smirk present in my tone.
"I can just tell by the sound of your voice. I'm coming over, yeah?"
The only form of response he receives is a deep sigh. With that, I hang up and drop my phone on the bed beside me. I don't know if it's my own anxiety, sadness, or the alcohol in my system but I begin feeling sick to my stomach. It's probably a combination of all three. In response to this feeling, I bring my knees up to my chest and curl into myself as if changing positions would help.
While laying there on my bed I hear the front door swing open and I know it's Jason. He usually just lets himself in now. We've been together for a long time and best friends even longer.
"Y/N?"
I don't move. I stay in the same place and allow a single tear to slide down my cheek. I'm not sure as to why I'm crying. But I think it has something to do with the fact that my life is basically falling apart around me and all I can do is sit and watch it happen.
"Baby?" Jason questions as he kneels down beside the bed in order to become level with my face which is probably red and blotchy. I bury my face into the comforter and feel his hand on my head.
I slowly look up, my eyes meeting his tear filled ones. I hate to know that I am the reason he is upset.
"I'm sorry." I mutter, my voice hoarse. His thumb brushes over my cheek as he smiles sadly at me. Sometimes I don't like it when he looks at me like that. Because it's as if he sees me as a sad story. And I'm not.
"Don't be sorry, babygirl." His smile soon fades into a slight frown as I look at him with little to no expression. I feel my heart aching with every passing minute and I don't know how to quit from feeling this way. Somewhere along the way— somewhere amongst all of the wrongs made against me, I allowed this pain to embed itself into all the corners of my soul. "Listen, Y/N, I don't want you to go through what I went through. You deserve so much more than that. And you're gonna be okay but you have to stop drinking like this."
Without any hesitation, I sit up and brush the stray strands of hair out of my face. Yes, I'm hurting but I need to gather myself. I have to get a hold of my emotions and pull strength from within myself. I need to be strong.
I look to Jason, allowing my eyes to catch his gaze. There's so much depth behind his eyes— so much truth. I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck, my hands gripping his t shirt.
"I'll stop," I whisper as my voice wavers. "I'll stop. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, love. You'll be okay."
MIKE
Hanna giggles as she pours each of us a shot of vodka, her blonde hair falling in front of her face. I look around the basement to see all of the girls laughing and flashing genuine smiles; something I haven't seen in what feels like ages.
