DON'T BREAK THE RULES

Chapter 25 - Gross

"Jamie..." Joe murmured uneasily, seeing Jamie down his sixth shot when he was only on his third. He eyed the shot, his finger gliding along the rim before he tilted his head backwards and felt the stinging liquid burn to his throat. That was a sensation he had fallen in love with after he had been fired from his workplace, but at the moment, he had no interest in drinking. Simply because, "What are we celebrating?"

"You leaving!" Jamie hollered, his illuminated eyes observing Joe for a moment before downing another drink. But although he had said that a few times, Joe had sensed a strange energy.

Jamie wasn't happy at all and he seemed to be forcing himself to drink rather than wanting to.

He took another shot before Joe could even pour himself a fourth glass.

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Why is that being celebrated?"

"That means you've gotten your life together," he winked, "which I'm proud of."

After a short pause, Joe noticed Jamie's eyes lower for a second before he poured himself another glass. A strange expression had flashed across his eyes and Joe had seen it before Jamie made it disappear. The excitement was not genuine at all, as if it was a way of attempting to suppress the emotion he truly felt by overwhelming himself into believe he was content.

And Joe, unsure how, was able to see through the disguise Jamie was flashing. Which he did not quite understand; Jamie had been the one avoiding him for weeks, acting as if he was nonexistent in some cases. Hell, Jamie always bragged about owning him, hence why Joe could not find any reason Jamie would suddenly be behaving this way.

Before he could form the question he wanted to ask, Jamie pointed to his glass, "We're taking this shot at the same time. Three, two, one...drink!" And Joe followed, taking hit shot and his face contorted. Jamie poured him another one. "That's how we drink around here, Joe. You're only at your fifth and I'm here at my tenth."

Regardless of the number they were at, it was clear neither of them were completely sober. Joe's eyebrows had narrowed since the uneasiness he felt from Jamie's peculiar behaviour suddenly changed into anger as he watched Jamie take another shot without even glancing at Joe once. The worse was that Jamie was not even talking, rather chuckled to himself a few times before downing another shot, and by the time Joe stopped counting, he was at fourteen.

And Joe was at nine.

"I'm beating you like last time," Jamie snorted, mocking Joe for a few seconds before reaching for the bottle of vodka. However, before Jamie could grab it, Joe snatched it from the table and hid it behind his back.

It took a moment since Jamie was fairly drunk, to raise his head and meet Joe's gaze, "Where did you put it?"

"Jamie, we should talk."

He raised his eyebrows with a condescending smirk. "Talk about what exactly? And just because you're leaving doesn't mean you don't have to call me Mas—"

"What's going on with you?"

That question caused Jamie's smirk to vanish and his droopy eyes stared at Joe for a few seconds before cluelessly raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"You've been acting different."

Jamie snorted, extending his palm. "Give me the drink."

Joe refused. "You've ignored me for weeks."

"I haven't ignored you once—"