“Beeeeam?” A slurry voice drags my nickname out again, forcing me to look down into the garden.
Holy shit.
It’s Geebear, but a lot drunker than I’ve ever seen him. He’s wearing his infamous bear hat, and Batman PJs (that are fucking adorable, might I add.) A large bottle of vodka is in his hands – so large he’s holding it with two hands to his chest. Almost...protective of it.
“Gerard! What the fuck?” I hiss.
He squints for a moment, then a lazy smile starts to scrawl across his features. “Morning, sugar.”
Oh yeah. It's 1am.
"Why are you shitfaced?!" I ask, worry creeping into my voice.
"Meh." He shrugs like it's no big deal. "Mikey, Ember, shit like that. Want some, Sunny Honey?" Geebear chuckles at his joke from last time.
"No! Look, just come up here -"
"Why don't youuu come down here, Beam?"
It's not like I'm sleeping, is it? So I guess I can drag my lazy ass out my warm bedroom to make sure my boyfriend doesn't get into any trouble when he's pissed. I'll take him home, maybe.
Still. It takes quite a lot of effort to go outside.
Not because I'm tired. Because I don't want to see him like this. I don't want to see my perfect Gee like this. A mess. It's hard.
Very hard.
I walk over to the wardrobe, pulling on Converses and a Blink-182 hoodie over my Green Day tank top and black PJ bottoms to keep me warm. Stepping over various shirts and CDs on my messy floor, I walk back to the window, giving Venom a whispered goodbye. Then, I lower myself from the slightly ajar window, shutting it behind me as I slide down the wall to the grass.
"Honey." My boyfriend greets me, staggering over to me and taking a big swig of the vodka.
"Don't. Come on, let's get you home." I put my arms around the bottle and pull it from his arms, looking down at it momentarily.
I've never had vodka. I've had the odd sip of wine at family parties, but not actual alcohol like this. Wonder what it tastes like?
I down a bit, and nearly gag. It tastes awful, so bitter that it burns my throat...and yet there's something so addictive about the taste. It's like it's wiping away my problems - I haven't thought about any bad shit for 5 whole minutes now. That's a record.
When I finally pull my lips away from it, I realise that I've drunken quite a lot of it indeed. Half of it, maybe!
What the fuck did I just do? I'm now what I would class as drunk. I wasn't planning this. I'm not the sort of person that would do something like this. I'm not one to let myself go, be wild, irresponsible.
But it made me feel better.
I screw the cap back on, shocked and slightly disgusted with myself, and look up to see Geebear looking at me closely.
"Y-you downed all that?"
"Yeah, I guess I did!" I burst into peals of laughter, even though I don't find it funny at all.
"Come on, Beam. Let's go for a walk." Geebear suggests, putting an arm round my neck and taking a large sip.
Somehow, we make our way to the little park that I went to that time with Venom. Y'know, the one near the lake? Staggering and trying hard not to fall over, we take it in turns to down some vodka, and by the time we get to the bench Jamia and I once sat on we're both completely hammered.
