[hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/JkPtF9c.png[/img][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEwNi4zMmNkMzIuS2xZcVNTcERLa3NxV1NvLC4w/novox-varsity.regular.webp[/img][/center]
[right][b]Interactions:[/b] Tuyen, Ella (nah) [@Fernstone] Kersten [@Rekkuza]
[code]Warehouse[/code][/right][hr]

[color=9777bd]”You really see everything?”[/color] Yes, everything, always. Vicky was locked in. She had them eagle eyes. Not even the most insignificant worm wiggling around in the dirt could pass her by undetected.  [color=9777bd]”Does that mean you saw why I took so long?[/color] Nooope. So long with what? Vicky had forgotten already that Tuyen was supposed to bring her a drink. A failed task that, possibly, saved her evening. Vicky was at her liquor capacity. Which meant she should get another drink. [color=9777bd] “You saw and didn’t even try to rescue me?”[/color]

Vicky stiffened. It was hard to tell why. It was quite possible that she was (even though Vicky was very much still dealing with her own extremely important trauma) alarmed to hear that Tuyen had been in danger. Then again, it could’ve been that Vicky just hated being a disappointment, even though it wasn’t her fault, she had been winning that game of beer pong, and also Chef, well, Chef was being a total dick, so really, Tuyen should be blaming Chef. Yet just as Vicky had found a perfectly good excuse to absolve herself of even the teensiest morsel of failure she was nudged by Tuyen, letting her off the hook. She relaxed.

Briefly. For a millisecond. Before Tuyen mentioned John Miller.

[color=32cd32]“Oh, gross! He’s the worst!”[/color] blurted Vicky out at the mention of his name, and after Tuyen said that he’d been the one to call things off in the first place Vicky added, [color=32cd32]“And an idiot!”[/color]

Vicky continued to interject as Tuyen told her about dealing with that lame ass benchwarmer, the cheerleader inside of her unable to resist hyping up Tuyen for cutting out that loser. Vicky hit her with the totallies, the ewgh-yucks, the so weirds, and the hell yeahs. It was so nice to see Tuyen stick up for herself. It was nice, really, it was…it just wasn’t nice enough to stop Vicky from falling silent the second Tuyen mentioned them being single together. And then what? They’d just be two lonely souls? The truth was that Vicky didn’t see everything, but at that moment, she could see the future, and again it involved her becoming kibble for the kitties. 

Her eyes grew vacant. She started to feel sick again. She was so upset.

Vicky needed a new boyfriend. Soon. 

[color=9777bd]“Kersten’s over there. Let’s- Let’s get high, I guess.”[/color]

Vicky snapped out of it. 

[color=32cd32]“Yes! Right! Drugs!”[/color] Tuyen was right. Great idea Tuyen! [color=32cd32]“Let’s get high!”[/color]

Tuyen spun—oh, whoa, easy, not so fast—spun Vicky in the right direction. It took a second for her head to catch up with her feet as she surveyed the room. Danny Graham’s bitch ass was snickering in a circle with Gwen and some other jocks. The good Daniel was trying to convert some satanist or something. Weirdo. Satan herself was [b]SMOKING! INDOORS? IN VICKY'S AIR!? SERIOUSLY!!?[/b] with that French kid, which almost made it okay since it was a European thing, until Vicky remembered that he was somehow French but Canadian. Weirdo. Tyler was, who cared what Tyler was doing thought Vicky as her eyes jumped over him but lingered briefly on Tommy. Weirdo. 

[i]Weirdo,[/i] the repeated thought directed this time at herself.

Somebody was waving at Vicky. Well, of course somebody was waving at her.  Before she could even think, Vicky found herself waving back. Everybody should’ve been waving at her! Everybody should have been as enthusiastic as this person was that Vicky was gracing the party with her presence. Everybody should just be like (pink hair, pink hair, wait, that’s) El-ehhhhh, nope. The wave fell fast to the side of her face as Vicky shielded her eyes and diverted her gaze, her head finally catching with where Tuyen had spun her, her sight lasering in on Kersten.  Knew they were there the whole time. Definitely not searching for homecoming dates, definitely not going to be eaten by a hungry mob of mewing—[i]STOP! FOCUS![/i] 

Focused, Vicky slipped in front of Tuyen, unhooking her from her arm only to start pulling her along at the wrist. Drugs. Vicky dodged the ever distracting Lupe and the lure of one of her legendary nightender mixed drinks. Drugs, drugs.  She blitzed past Ella and those lame Stupid Scouts tagging along with her. Drugs, drugs, drugs. She didn’t circumnavigate the dance floor.  Drugs, drugs, drugs! She charged straight through, barely stumbling, only knocking into one or ten people, so impressive. Drugs! [i]Drugs! [b]Drugs![/b][/i] 

Um, wait, Chef was the one who always dealt with Kushten. She had never scored drugs before. How was Vicky supposed to do this? According to the cop who used to interrupt their learning in elementary school so that Officer Burpke and Scruff the Drug Dog could scare those little shits straight, people were just supposed to be trying nonstop to give and make her smoke drugs. Vicky never thought she would have to learn how to ask for drugs. Is there like a code or something? A secret handshake? Do you just go…Vicky smacked Kersten on the shoulder (perhaps a bit too hard) to get them to stop dancing, held out her hand, cocked her head, and gave a big smile. 

[color=32cd32]“Drugs,”[/color] demanded Vicky. 

She swayed, her hand wavering as it curled and made a gimme, gimme motion. Her eyes were a little puffy from crying, but what was more telling was the drunken glaze. Vicky was sauced. When drugs didn’t immediately materialize in her hand, Vicky let go of Tuyen and started patting for pockets on her outfit. Duh! The “deal” part of “drug deal” implied that there was some kind of cash exchange or something. 

[color=32cd32]“We want drugs. How much for an ounce of weed?”[/color] asked Vicky with hardly a slurred word, not actually knowing what that meant but knowing it was probably a thing and assuming it wasn’t much. Like, an ounce was nothing. Nothing weighed less than an ounce. Still patting at her skirt for something that wasn’t there, she loudly declared to both Kersten and Tuyen. [color=32cd32]“I don’t have pockets. Like, I don’t have any pockets!”[/color]

Shit, she was yelling to be heard over the music. Vicky should be whispering. This was a drug deal. 

[color=32cd32]“I don’t have pockets,”[/color] she repeated in a hushed voice that was still pretty loud, her head darting back and forth between Tuyen and Kersten in confusion, letting out an exasperated laugh, like how, she had just had pockets, what the fuck? How did she lose pockets? Vicky stuck her hand back out, finding her confidence, just like she was sure to find those pockets. [color=32cd32]“First one’s free, right? Isn’t that, y’know, part of the thing?”[/color]

They better not have to do anything too weird. 

Vicky side-eyed Tuyen.

[i]Vicky[/i] better not have to do anything too weird.