The Long, Winding Road

3.

Day Continued

11:45 PM

The night rolls in with liquored up people, and no damns to give. Only one thought is on everyone's mind, and nobody is getting in the way. People are stumbling, grinding, and what can barely be classified as dancing. Bass-filled music blasts off the walls, and colourful bursts of barf streams down them. Credit to red solo cup on that one. Everyone has a cup sitting comfortably in their hand, and if you don't have one, one is placed for you. It's a booze-filled zoo. Hardly anyone can keep themselves upright before being consumed with nausea, vomit spews left and right, and you're lucky if you don't end up in the splash zone. Then again, no one cares. Everyone is dedicated to chug the remainders of liquid regret. And the regret lies in my stomach, and I have been searching for willpower to keep it down. With every drink, I feel my brain go into standby mode, while the rest of me decides to put on its party shoes. It has a hold on me and moves me like a puppet on a string.

"Have another, it'll settle your stomach."

"If I move, I might not make it to tomorrow."

"Good idea," Axel slumps down next to me, "Let's sit and drink."

I groan, taking the shot glass from him and clinking his before bringing it to my lips, "To being young!"

"Damn right," Axel says before downing his, "WOO. That one burned just right."

Axel taps my thigh, "Come on, let's go find those bastards."

*

"Where the hell is your drink, Stevie?"

"I'm between drinks right now."

"What does that even mean? Marty, get this twink a drink."

Marty swigs the remainders of what's in his cup, and tosses it across the room, "I'm on it."

Benji gulps down his drink, "Now er'body in the club gettin' tipsy," he sings, holding his cup in the air.

"Hey, whose that dude with the freakin moustache?"

We look over to see a tall, skinny guy with a moustache on his lip chatting up two blonde chicks.

"Yo! That's fricken, Jax. He graduated already."

Stevie scoffs, "When, 1985?"

Axel throws an arm around his shoulders, "Can you at least try and have a good time?" He yells to top himself over the music.

Stevie just stands timidly and shrugs.

"Forget this," Axel waves him off. "Alright, douches. I'm leaving you to succumb to my wicked ways."

"Same here, I'm working on something," Anthony nods to a tall brunette in the opposite corner.

"The only thing you're workin' on is diabetes, you fat frick," Benji pulls Anthony into a chokehold.

"Get bent!" Anthony pushes him off, "I don't see no side piece tryna get with you."

"Go eat another chocolate bar and I'll get back to you."

Anthony backs away, flipping off Benji with both hands. "Forget him, I need a refill!"

*

"How many people are even here? I'm so freakin dead," Stevie scratches at his head.

"You need to chill, dude," I tap at his cup, encouraging him to drink it.

He takes a swig and Marty yells from across the room, "Hall! House phone," he signs a telephone, "House phone!"