Static

Chapter Two

"I know what is happening to the country, and we must make the people believe that we had nothing to do with the shutdown by uniting them as one against our common enemy." - Henry Definko to Republican Party Leader

                                                                      CHAPTER TWO

BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA / KURT . 01:11HOURS . Day 9

   The small crowd of bystanders cheered Kurt on as he threw back shot after shot. Each drain slowly discarded the burning sensation in his throat that he was left with. His head was beginning to waver and his precision was getting less precise. He pushed off from the counter to get up off the stool. Some others helped steer him towards the living room where the main attraction was.

   Music erupted from the speakers manned by the locally favoured DJ - CrazE DannE. His bopping pink helmet was spottable over the sea of teenagers. Kurt didn't mind him. He spoke to him once when he wasn't snorting crushed Advil, and that version of him was like a twin with a whole other personality that you mistook for the other. 

   A girl he didn't know caught his eye while he tried to maneuver into the crowd he was being swept into. She stood beside her friend as they gossiped.

   "Ladies, how are you?" He let out. The influence of the alcohol was getting to him faster than he thought.

   "Are you okay?" The girl that caught his eye asked. She brushed back a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear.

   "Just enjoying the devil's beverage, my dear.", he said as he scratched his ear out of habit. "My, you two are gorgeous. Y'all aren't from around here, are you?"

   Dirty Blonde giggled. "Oh no, we're from Hedley. What's your name?"

   "Kurt. Kurt Russell." He extended a hand before he was pushed from the two as the music built up. "Hey, I'll talk to you two lovely's soon!"

   CrazE DannE was now thrusting his arms in a furry in his usual awful attempt at dancing. The beat of the song intensified and the people surrounding him let their arms loose, or jumped about, or raised their beer-filled silo cups in beat with the contents slushing over the rims. 

He was sure he spotted the DJ quickly snorting a line of Advil with a shaking hand before his friend Toby crowd surfed in front, temporarily blocking the view. 

   Kurt tried his hardest to mimic the beat-driven crowd, but his legs didn't comply. In fact, they felt more like jello than legs and he was sure he was going to fall to the filthy hardwood floor transformed by the party participants. A sudden urge formed in his upper chest, threatening to come up. Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom. He rushed trying to weave through the tightly packed living room, but he didn't make it far.

   A guy noticed what was going to happen and dove out of the way before Kurt threw up all over onto the Dirty Blonde's shirt and pants and barely missed him. He was transfixed by the fact that he got it on the girl he liked, never mind that he didn't make it to the bathroom in time. Hell, I could've threw up in a vase and no one would bat an eye. He tried to apologize but only mumbles came out. The girl was furious and her friend took her upstairs to get cleaned up. 

   Holly and Toby appeared by his side and hauled him to the main floor bathroom where he leaned over the toilet, waiting for more voyages of vomit to follow the course the first had.

   "I wonder when he got her number, before or after he expressed his gratitude for her." Toby directed to Holly as he closed the door.

   "Fuck you, Toby." She said in a playful voice. "Poor guy was trying to make friends."