18 | Acting, but Make it Method

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It was creeping close to eleven-thirty, and we'd regressed back into teenagers to play drinking games

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It was creeping close to eleven-thirty, and we'd regressed back into teenagers to play drinking games. The group I'd immersed myself into were an amalgamation of mine and Harriet's uni friends, and a few of Dharsheni's colleagues. To enhance the teenage vibe, we were in the midst of a game of Never Have I Ever, and a few eye watering rounds had already passed by.

The worst round for me personally, rather unsurprisingly, came courtesy of Finn, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor to my right like some misbehaved schoolboy. He'd not gone down the predictable sexual route, which I had to admit earned my respect, but he'd pulled out the never have I ever fake dated someone card purely to make me feel awkward. Asshole.

It was Amai's turn, a friend I'd met via my university course, and I braced myself because she had zero filter. I leaned my back against the sofa behind me as she twirled her long, black wig around her finger, and pursed her lips in contemplation. It was one of her everyday wigs, which she'd propped a pair of cat ears onto, and her outfit was a yellow, figure hugging dress which made her look like a literal goddess. It was a poor costume attempt to say the least, but as she was from Nigeria, she'd claimed to be an African big cat when I questioned her. I had to admire her no fucks to give approach. 

Amai stopped playing with her hair as her plump lips twitched upwards, and she cleared her throat.

'Never have I ever thought about someone at this party while getting myself to the good place.' She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and it would've been far less cringeworthy if she'd just said while masturbating. 'Oh, or while getting it on with somebody else.'

Amai's... task? Challenge? Whatever the hell a round of Never Have I Ever could be classified as was a clear attempt to see if my other uni friend, Matt, would take a swig because the poor girl had been in love with him since their eyes met across a lecture theatre three years ago. Matt, I was sure to Amai's grand disappointment, didn't flinch. 

Finn, on the other hand, swigged the remainder of his orange juice down like it was a shot of vodka.

The daggers I shot that man in response—the look of absolute aghast I gave him was indescribable. There seemed to be some drama between two of Dharsheni's colleagues, who'd both drunk, so that had stolen nearly everyone's attention and the game was rapidly being forgotten about. 

Finn had to double take when he shifted his grey eyes in my direction because my grossed out response was apparently unexpected to him. He shrugged, then jumped to his feet as he declared he was going to grab another drink. I barely let him take two footsteps. I stood with him, then yanked him in the direction of the hallway which led to the bathroom and bedrooms.

'What's the craic?' he asked cheerfully as we stopped in the doorway.

I ignored him, and said, 'I appreciate your commitment to the character, but you realise the whole point is that partners aren't meant to be included in rounds like that,' I pointed out with crossed arms. 'And even if that was the case, Harriet wasn't playing, so kind of pointless. And gross.'

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