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[sub][color=slategray][b]Location | PARTAAAAAAAY[/b][/color][/sub][/center]
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[indent]Bradley Barron stood in front of his mirror and dramatically tore another shirt off of his body, throwing it into a pile of fellow rejects. He shook his head and flopped onto his bed, face down. His exasperation was muffled by his pillows, but it was just as cathartic. He’d been trying to get ready for this party for what felt like hours. Nothing he put on felt right, nothing looked good enough. He should just stay in, listen to the thumping of the music through his door, and pretend like it had been the best night of his life.

Except he’d told Wes he’d come, and therein lay his dilemma. [color=66cc66][i]You’re being ridiculous. Get over it. Get over it. GET OVER IT[/i][/color] Bradley lay still for a few minutes, trapped in a labyrinth of his own creation, until he finally decided to tune out of his ongoing saga of self-loathing. He forced himself to roll over and get up. At least if he went to the party, he could get drunk, and forget all of this. He wasn’t sure alcohol actually worked that way, considering he’d never had the stuff, but hidden deep in his subconscious, a small voice assured him he was correct.

Minutes passed and finally, Bradley settled on a simple [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/de/06/8f/de068f0bf4846be45c773cb166573f9c.jpg]outfit[/url], nothing too showy, but something that made him feel like he was putting in some effort. If he listened closely, he could hear the thump of music coming from downstairs, soundwaves slipping out an open window and into his room. 

He took a deep breath, and headed out into the hallway, catching the elevator just as a few of his classmates were headed down. Short skirts and way more makeup than usual made it pretty obvious that they were off to the party as well, and he wondered if Erica was prepared for the whole school to show up. He smiled softly to himself at the thought of Erica’s face when she saw the common room filled with strange bodies. 

The party wasn’t in full swing quite yet, but people had begun to arrive, and they were helping themselves to alcohol and the dance floor. The music was even louder down here, and coupled with the shouts of party-goers, it was damn near impossible to hear yourself drink. The weight of everyone’s presence seemed to close in around him, and Bradley beelined for the alcohol. He was able to wrap his fingers around a half-empty bottle of vodka, and after examining it for a brief second, he poured some into an empty cup, and chugged.

The vodka tasted like hand sanitizer smelled, and his body fought him as it went down his throat. Nevertheless, he kept it down, grimacing as he looked around for a familiar face. He was out of his element here, surrounded by people he barely knew. He took another shot, just to ease the weight of their stares, and a third just for safety. Each time it got easier, and Brad was beginning to wonder what all the fuss was about. He felt like he’d been drinking for years.

Wes and Griff still weren’t here, but that was beginning to seem like less and less of a problem, as alcohol warmed his body and clouded his senses. The music, egregious a moment ago, was seeping into his muscles, and he found himself tapping his foot to the rhythm while he poured himself a mixed drink. He smiled softly. What could possibly go wrong?[/indent]