Seconds transform into minutes, minutes morph into hours. I sit on the floor next to my window, elbow propped on the window sill. I have put on my best Blood Peppers t-shirt and sit in dark blue jeans I've been told I look good in. I've never been one to bite my nails, but as I wait for 7:30, I nibble furiously. The edge of my tooth catches the skin rimming my nail, tearing it slightly. I watch the blood ooze out before I even realize what it is, and once I do I leap to my feet and rip a tissue from the box on the kitchen counter. I wrap it around my finger and cringe as the blood seeps through it. It starts to sting.
In a few minutes I've got the finger wrapped in a band-aid to prevent infection. No sooner do I leave the bathroom when I hear a knock at the door. My heart does an uncomfortable leap. I rush for the door and trip over a pillow on the floor. Headfirst into the door I go with a painful thud. Behind it, a voice.
"You okay in there, Sho-chan?"
I pull open the door to see him standing there, wearing a blue hoodie with the school's logo on it. He's wearing black jeans that look almost too tight, and Vans. He looks good. As he sees me, he leans forward. I instinctively draw back and he raises a brow.
"It's supposed to be, like, really cold tonight. You sure that's going to cut it?"
I note his unnecessary use of the word 'like' out of habit and glance down at my shirt.
"I'll be alright…"
His slightly concerned expression bursts into a grin and he loops an arm around my neck.
"Okey dokey then. If you're good, let's roll," he tells me while he pulls me out into the hallway. He pauses and reaches out a foot, wedging the door open with his toe seconds before it would have closed.
"Got your key on you? I left mine in the dorm once. Me and a bunch of my buds had to climb to the window. Scary stuff!"
I hold out of the key for him to see. He nods and lets the door close, then leads me down the hallway. He seems to know where he's going, and I have no choice but to follow him like a helpless duckling. I am a helpless duckling.
"So um…where will this party be?" I ask, adjusting my glasses.
He stops as we come out into another hall and looks down both ends before making up his mind and taking a right.
"Some dude's dorm across the campus."
He must see the puzzled look I give him, because he snickers.
"You don't have to know the person to have a good time, man. If there's a party, I'm there."
I think of how odd his lifestyle is. The only parties I have been to have been for people I know, mostly for my family. Here is a person who goes to any party he catches wind of, even if it's for a complete stranger. I don't understand such things. I notice we're heading outside, and we cross the campus. We enter another building of dorms, and he stops before a certain door, checking the number. He smirks to himself and sets a hand on the knob.
I nervously adjust my glasses again, a habit since my pre-teen years. He twists the knob and heads in. I follow, despite nearly being blasted off my feet by the loud music. All around us, people dance like puppets. They hold plastic cups that, from the smell, hold beer and other alcohol. I've only smelled the smell once in my life, when my father was still around. I hate this already.
My guide waves to people he knows, checks over his shoulder to make sure I'm okay, then gives me a thumbs up. He yells something that vaguely sounds like, "have fun", but the music drowns his voice. He turns away and heads for his friends, leaving me standing there. I fight through the ground, trying to find the drink section. I choose Pepsi and sniff it to make sure it isn't laced with anything. I gulp it down and pour myself more. This heat is starting to make me sweat.
Twenty minutes into the party, I try leaving the building for some fresh air, but the temperature outside has dropped significantly and it isn't long before I seek warmth again. This happens in a vicious circle that lasts most of the night.
An hour or so into the party, I meet a group of girls who invite me to a game of beer pong. I lie and say I'm the designated driver. They're too drunk to care and saunter off, giggling all the way.
An hour and a half later, and I'm worrying about things that nobody else is. Such as: what would the parents think? How would the school handle this if they happened to stumble upon it? Is that boy that took me here alright? Why do I not know his name yet?
Two hours into the party and I feel lightheaded from the heat and music. This wasn't a good idea. I shouldn't be here. I feel like a visitor at a zoo. They dance less like puppets and more like chimpanzees.
I don't even know how long I've been here anymore. It feels like it's been all day, but I know that can't be possible. I feel dazed, as if under the influence of a drug. It isn't possible. The only things I had were cups of Pepsi and some chips. Someone somewhere shouts for a Freshman to chug something. I reach out and lean against the table to keep from falling. The song blasting over my head sounds the same as all those before it. I can't be here anymore. My skull is bound to tear open any moment. I stumble through the crowd. Their drunken faces all look the same to me.
I reach the door, but the chants 'Fight! Fight!' stop me. I look over, only to be met with horror. Proof that I'm not completely numb.
There's the boy, down on the floor with some other guy, seeming to want to punch a hole in his face. It's a big beefy guy, the type I wouldn't mess with on my best day. He takes swing after wild swing, but they're all dodged. Before I know it, they combatants are on their feet, and the big one charges. The boy casually steps (or stumbles, I can't tell which) to the side and trips his attacker, sending him flying into the crowd. For a moment the boy seems to be the victor, but then he collapses.
Without thinking, I leap into action, pushing through the partiers. The boy just lies there on his stomach. As I approach him, he rolls over and looks directly at the ceiling. He winces and draws an arm over his face to shade his eyes, and then looks over at me. A goofy smile crosses his face.
"Hey, Sho-chan…fancy seeing you here."
"Where is your hoodie? We're leaving," I tell him. I notice he's gotten rid of it and is now wearing a white shirt that ends in dark grey, and one side has slipped to reveal his shoulder in the fight. He doesn't answer, and I sigh.
"Has anyone seen a blue hoodie with the school logo on it?" I address the onlookers. They turn to each other and converse before someone finally produces the hoodie and hands it to me. I take it and pull the boy up from the floor, draping his arm around my shoulder. I hold him firmly around the waist and the crowd parts for me as I head for the door. All the way I pray his opponent doesn't come after us. Everyone watches in inebriated confusion. The air is thick with the scent of 'booze', as one might say.
Outside in the freezing cold, he can stand on his own. I toss the hoodie at him, which he clumsily catches and pulls over his head.
"Sho-chan, you're no fun," he whines.
"You almost got killed back there. Is fighting drunk a pastime around here or something?" I snap back, indignant.
He grins a sloppy grin and rubs at his eyes.
"Like I'm going to be a chicken shit and back out of a fight," he slurs. He tries walking but stumbles instead.
"Huh, I don't usually drink this much. Just so that I can still make it back home…fuck, it's cold."
I grimace at his foul language and put his arm around my neck again. I lead the trek back across the campus to the tune of him singing some song that reminds the listener to not trust a ho. His voice is light and strange, as if he's trying to sound like a woman.
At the door, I struggle between balancing my drunken 'friend' while also unlocking the door. Once I hear the click I push the door open with my foot and toss the keys onto the counter. In the dark, he chuckles.
"Aw Shoichi, you're a pal you know that?" he nuzzles my neck, which in turn ignites the fire in my cheeks. He leaves my side and wobbles, tripping over my bed and falling onto it.
"Oh…there's a bed here," he announces into the covers.
I kick off my shoes and point to his.
"No shoes on my bed."
He's quiet for a minute and I wonder if he's heard me. I'm about to repeat myself when he replies.
"Could you be a pal one more time?" comes his request in a sugary sweet tone. I roll my eyes and yank off his shoes, setting them neatly by the door. I then go over to sit by the bed, head in my hands.
"I assume you're staying here for the night?"
An odd and misplaced chuckle into the covers.
"Nice work, detective…"
A small silence.
"I'm Byakuran by the way."
I nod and make myself a sleeping area by the bed.
"How can you live like this? It doesn't look appealing at all. In fact, it looks dangerous."
Silence. I look up and find that he's fast asleep, leaving me to lie down and stare into the dark. How many times has this happened to him? Before me, who did he have to lean on? Everyone else usually gets drunk with him.
I try to fall asleep, but then suddenly I begin worrying about him aspirating on his own vomit. I wind up sitting against the wall, watching him closely. I don't realize I've sat up the whole night until the grey dawn begins peeking through the windows. Zero sleep so far. But he looks peaceful there, as if the wild night had never even happened. I wonder what he's dreaming about, if he dreams at all.
He doesn't have to know that I worried so much. If he asks when he wakes up, I'm telling him I slept like a rock.
Note: What fun this was to write! I appreciate the reviews (all TWO of them, lol) and am very pleased with the number of subscribers. Not bad for the first chapter! I really adore 10051 and I hope I'm doing them justice, especially Drunk!Byakuran. I picture him as a ditzy, clumsy, a little too affectionate drunk. Which brings me to my next point!
If you missed the reference in the part where Shoichi is dragging Byakuran across the campus (I can totally see that), he's singing 3OH!3's "Don't Trust Me". I thought it fit the occasion.
Another Note: I have never been drunk in my entire life, so I hope my portrayal was pretty accurate with the drunken college kids. I've only got my imagination and TV experience to go by~
Lastly, thanks again for reading. I hope you continue to enjoy the series, since I currently have no real end planned out yet. If you have something to suggest or if you just want to comment, don't hesitate to leave a review. HIT ME WITH ALL YA GOT 3333
Peace n' junk.