Beyond the Gates

You were at Alex's -your boy best friend- house. You had just finished watching a movie, some stupid rom-com that neither of you found really intriguing. It was about 9 PM, and the sun was setting outside, casting an orange glow on the windows. Your phone buzzes. A notification.
"I'm here, come outside."
You tell Alex that you're going on a short walk to get some fresh air, because it smells like piss in the house. He lets out a laugh and ushers you outside.
He's there, past the gates. The boy you spoke with over Instagram, and who wanted to meet you. He looks like he came from the hood. Hood drip. Oh, boy.
You open the gates and step towards him, a small smile on your face.
"Hello, king," you say to him, slowly taking him in.
"Hello, kitten. You're much prettier in person."
Something about his tone makes your skin crawl. You suddenly have a very bad feeling about this.
Something catches your eye. It's a group of boys, hoods pulled over their heads. They're heading straight for you.
You turn to run back inside the house, but you're pulled back by your wrist. Arms wrap around you and you realize that the group of boys are surrounding you now. One of them takes a step forward and starts going through your pockets, taking the keycard to Alex's house and throwing it to another boy. A strange sort of game starts between them, passing the keycard around to each other and laughing while you squirm.
Gathering all your power, you manage to free an arm and elbow the boy behind you right in the ribs. Squealing, he lets you go and clutches his torso in pain. You jump on the boy with the keycard, manage to snatch it from his hand, and make a run for it right towards the gates.
You're panicking, and you frantically try to scan the keycard, but it just doesn't want to slide in. Thankfully, the group of boys seem to be bored of messing with you and just stay there, laughing and grinning.
Finally, the keycard slides in and you rush through the gates and into the house, slamming the door behind you. The sound echoes all over the place.
You run to Alex's room and burst through the door. You're shocked, but most of all, you're scared. You can feel tears running down your face from before you even step foot into the room, and your breathing is heavy now. You lean against his room wall, sliding down until you're on the floor. You bring your knees up to your chest and bury your head in your arms.
Calm down. Slow your breathing. Calm. Down.
Alex is next to you in an instant, asking you what happened, but you can't get the words out. Hell, you can barely even breathe.
After a few minutes of just sitting there (Alex beside you), you manage to gather your words.
You tell him what happened.
He just sits there for a moment, like he didn't hear you. A moment later, a flurry of emotions crosses his face. Shock. Pain. But most of all, anger. He pulls you into his arms and holds onto you tight. He doesn't say anything, it's not like he needs to. His touch tells you everything he doesn't say aloud. Your eyes feel wet and you're breaking down again.

A few hours later, after everything calms down, the doorbell rings. Instinctively, you tense up. Alex rises from next to you and goes to check who it is. After about a minute, he comes back and the person behind him is someone who you know very well. Hera. Your best friend, with her blonde hair, usually dyed crazy colours, and her glistening septum piercing. You jump from the bed and wrap your arms around her, grateful she's here.
After the three of you settle down onto Alex's bed, you tell her what happened earlier. She's shocked at first and starts cursing the boys, but soon settles down and pulls you into a hug, knowing that you need support right now.
The rest of the night continues through alcohol, smoke, games, and everything in between. About an hour after midnight, Hera gets a notification from her mother.
"Where the hell are you, Hera? Come back home at once. "
Groaning, Hera  pushes herself up from the bed and stretches her arms. After gathering her things, she hugs you goodbye, turns to Alex, flips him off (as usual), and leaves.
You later find yourself falling asleep in Alex's arms, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, hand caressing your hair. His fingers thread through the strands softly, almost reverently. It's soothing. You can hear his heartbeat from where your head lays, a soft rhythmic thump in your ear.

You're startled awake by the sound of footsteps in the hallway. What the hell? Glancing at the digital clock on his nightstand, the hour is 3 AM. You freeze. Hera left two hours ago, Alex is next to you, and his parents are away for the night. No one else is supposed to be in the house but you both. The dark seems to press in on you, and everything suddenly falls silent.
A few moments pass. Nothing.
You nearly jump out of bed when music starts blasting and the room fills with coloured lights. The culprits: Hera and Alex's friends. What the actual fuck is happening.
Hera jumps up on Alex's desk, one of his friends jumps on Alex (he's already awake), and the rest file into the room, occupying every possible space.
After the initial shockwave, you grin at  Hera. You should have known she's pull something like this. She pulls out a bottle of rum and a can of beer out of her ass and opens them both with her toenails, chugging them down in one go. She pokes her tongue out at you, lips glossy with alcohol.
Alex is groaning in pain from the weight of his friend, who is howling with laughter.
You get out of the bed and grab the half-finished bottle of rum from Hera, downing it in a few gulps.
She smirks at you and pulls another out of her ass, this time handing it over to one of Alex's friends.
After a few more rounds of this, all of you start to sing "We wish you a Merry Christmas" at the top of your lungs (it's June).

After about one hour, you run to the bathroom, with the pretext of being sick. You're not actually sick, but Alex is pissing you off. He hasn't even looked your way in the past hour. So, you decided that the best course of action would be to pretend to be sick, hunch over the toilet as if you were vomiting, and wait for him to turn up. If he ever did.
After about 15 minutes of waiting, it didn't seem like he would come. Groaning, you move to stand up but hear footsteps on the hall and the sound of his laughter. You quickly move back into place and wait. The bathroom door is made of matte glass, so you can see his figure approaching the door. He knocks a few times.
"Hey. Are you alright?"
You smile softly to yourself. He came, after all.
"I'm...okay. I guess. Still feel a little sick though."
"Can I come in?"
"Mhm."
The door falls open and he steps inside. It's quite dark here, you realize. The only source of light is the soft glow emanating from beyond the bathroom door.
You lean against the wall and he sits down next to you.
"Had a bit too much to drink, eh? You look a right state."
"If you say so. If I was in your place I would take a look at myself first."
In someone else's eyes, you would be right. Hair slightly disheveled, eyes red, a thin sheen of sweat on his skin. But he's as gorgeous as ever to you.
Even though you weren't really sick, the alcohol was still in your system and very much affecting you. It was pleasant, the lightheadedness. It made the things you wanted to say rest on the tip of your tongue.

TO BE CONTINUED.......