Beer, Spaghetti, and Pharmaceuticals ||COMPLETED||

Preview: Chapter One of "It's All Your Fault"

Disclaimer: I've mentioned it a few times already, but this story is not for everyone. If you totally hate it, no hard feelings whatsoever! If you DO like it, the second chapter is already posted! :) Check it out! 

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November 28th, 2017.

3:08 AM

 This is where everything started.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of my living room floor, drunk, in a haze of cigarette and marijuana smoke. Paul McCartney's raspy voice belted Oh! Darling through the speakers of the stereo, the atmosphere giving the vibe that we had traveled four decades back in time.

My boyfriend, Adam, was sleeping soundly on the couch. His fingertips still grazed the bottle of beer sitting on the ground, but the drool dripping from the corner of his mouth proved that the alcohol got the best of him.

It was three in the morning, after all.

A smile crept up my face as I watched him gently breathing, a serene calmness printed on his face. He had a certain boyish charm about him. The way his dark brown eyes lit up every time he laughed could bring joy to anyone, and he laughed a lot. Playful in nature, Adam never took anything too seriously. It was simultaneously what made me love him the most while also driving me the craziest after the seven years we were together.

But this story isn't about Adam.

I wish it was.

This story is about the man sitting at the end of the couch, next to Adam's feet.

"I really believe anyone who has given The Beatles a fair chance, and still claims that they hate them, has to be evil in nature," he said, flicking the end of the joint between his fingertips into the ashtray.

Christopher Adley, ladies and gentleman.

Can't have a conversation without it turning philosophical.

"And why do you say that, Christopher?" I asked, pushing my imaginary glasses up the bridge of my nose and leaning forward, indulging him in his observation.

"All their lyrics are about love and peace. It's one thing to not like their sound... but to actually listen to their lyrics and not get that fuzzy feeling inside of you... you'd have to be evil."

"What about all the cheesy pop songs on the radio right now? About peace and love?" I challenged. "Last I checked you weren't a fan of those. Does that make you evil?"

"That's different," he said. "Those songs are heartless and written by companies that mass-produce them so much, you can hardly hear the lyrics over the sound of all the bass."

A couple of seconds passed before I raised an eyebrow and felt my lips twitch into a smirk. I couldn't hold it back anymore.

"God, you're pretentious." I laughed and held out my hand, motioning to the joint. "Give me that."

He rolled his eyes and passed me the joint before excusing himself to the washroom.

Chris was a pretty big part of my life.

Me, Adam, and Chris all grew up in the same small town in Washington before escaping to Seattle.

Colfax, WA. Population: 2900.

Yeah. With a population that small, you need to leave.

Shortly after moving to Seattle, I decided I absolutely had to visit the first Starbucks that opened. Drinking a latte in the window of the first Starbucks ever was a rite of passage for every new Seattleite.