Fuckboy ↬ Nick Robinson Fanfic

2

I clicked on it and saw that it was a couple, I assume, making out and wondered why on Earth would Scar send me this picture. I didn't really give a damn.
I stared at it a few more seconds and my heart skipped a beat as I noticed the shirt the guy was wearing.
It was a shirt I had gotten Sam for his birthday last year.
I cringed and zoomed on their faces, noticing that it was indeed fucking Sam.

"Oh hell no," I said out loud, standing up from by bed, heading straight to my closet.

I took my phone in my hand and texted Scar back.
"I'm coming. I'm going to give him a fucking piece of my mind."

I grabbed a black shirt and a pair of high waisted shorts, slid on some converse and took my hair out of the messy bun, brushing it.
It was slightly waved from the bun, so I decided I wouldn't do anything else with it. I put on a little bit of makeup and grabbed my backpack, heading downstairs.
I grabbed my car keys on the kitchen counter and hopped in my car the second I got outside, starting to drive to Noah's house. My subconscience kept telling me to turn around and leave, but I figured seeing Sam couldn't be that bad and continued driving despite the weird feeling peeking through the hatred and frustration I was feeling.
I didn't even have a reason to be mad, let's be real, we're not even in a relationship anymore, but I need to let a few things off my chest.

I parked my car a few houses away from the house and from where I was I could hear the bass coming from inside, and I felt a rush of excitment hit me as I saw the lights flashing through his windows.
House parties are really a great thing about high school. One of my favorite things about high school, actually.
I opened the door and saw the massive ton of people, all dancing or talking, red cups in their hand. On the left side of the room was some kind of dancefloor, with black lights making the colors and white things stand out. People had neon makeup on their face and some body parts, making them pretty noticible. On the right side of the room stood a table, where beerpong games were held.

"There she is!" William greeted me, pulling me into an awkward side hug, holding his cup with one hand, "Took you long enough, we were starting to miss you,"

"Yeah, but you know me, I'd never miss a party," I replied, scanning through the crowd to spot either Scar or Sam.

"Come on, we have to get you some makeup and something to drink,"

He was clearly drunk.

"Oh that's-

Before I could say anything, he made me sit on a bench where a girl stood, seeming slightly drunk as well. Next to her was all her makeup tools, colors going from neon pink to blue, all in different shades.
She dipped her paint brush in the neon pink, taking a sip out of her drink at the same time, slightly dancing to the song.
She slid the brush across my face and I furrowed my eyebrows, imagining how this would turn out. She also grabbed my arm and started drawing on it.

In the meantime, I still tried to spot Scar or Sam, but there were too many people.

"Thanks," I said, standing up from the bench I had been sitting on, "Now I need a shot,"
I grabbed a shot on the kitchen counter and drank it as fast as I could, trying to restrain the taste of the vodka from burning my entire mouth.
I grimaced as I swallowed, exhaling right after. I grabbed another one and repeated the steps of my first one.
I decided to stop after three, and maybe get other shots later, because I got drunk pretty quickly usually.