[center][img]https://image.ibb.co/fb4KrL/nh.jpg[/img][/center]
Interactions/Mentions: [@Lovely Complex]

	It was something to do.  That's what Noah kept repeating in his head.  He sat in his car, fresh from work.  The radio was playing and the engine was still going and he sat there in the driver's seat, a window cracked and a cigarette blazing.  It was his routine after work.  Calm down, decompress and change modes.  As the flame neared the butt, he threw it out the window.  It was time.  He secured the car, cut the engine and entered the house.
	
	He moved inside and took a snapshot of the situation.  No one was in the immediate vicinity, which was not too surprising.  "[color=f7976a]Is everyone ready[/color]," he called out with a tone of agitation.  The party was tonight.  It would be fake smiles, fake laughs and real food.  The latter was the true reason to go.  In the back of Noah's mind, he couldn't help but think about how he was missing out on a poker game with his buddies to entertain this party.  Hopefully it would be quick.

	His first stop was the fridge.  As he pulled open the door, he welcomed the light that illuminated an assortment of items, but mostly his beers.  He grabbed one out and popped the top.  Pregame time.  After a swig, he called out again, "[color=f7976a]Blake, what's going on?  We doing this?[/color]"