Be my mistake

The night we met

Newt sighed heavily. This party was a disaster and he really didn't want be here. He leant in a sullen mood against the kitchen island, on which tons of open bottles and bags of chips were lying around. Looking around the cheering people he got more and more uncomfortable, his hands starting to shake. 'Fuck', he mumbeled to himself. His anxiety started to kick in as always when it was the least suitable. Not that it ever suited a situation well. Making his way through the partying poeple he looked for the closest bathroom and almost stormed into it. After he locked the door behind him he propped his hands on the edge of the sink and tried to control his fast breathing. Then he turned on the faucet and splashed the ice-cold water on his face. 'Why can't you just stop?' he said to himself and screwed up his eyes. 'Jo, are you okay?'. Newt turned around and started at the boy who was lying on the floor next to the toilet and who had apparently just thrown up.