(hi tysm for readin', tap Sir Star if you do so wish to, a good thanks to you)
We arrived to complete chaos.
It was around nine-thirty by now, but someone who didn't know that could assume it was midnight at New Year's. Alcohol, smoke, sweat, bad cologne, and perfume created its own layer of the atmosphere around the house. Even as I parked all the way down the street—where the only parking was available—I could smell youthful mayhem.
From a distance, the large, white and gray-roofed estate stretched forever and a day. Lights were blaring out from the windows, from above the tall walls, breaking day into the night. Distant splashing entailed the Olympic pool was in full use. People of all grades were running out behind the house, over the lawn, and one even hopped the fence only to promptly throw up over the tulips.
It was, in short, out of control, and therefore electric.
Haru said, "I don't think I can do this."
I clasped his shoulders, inching him forward when he slowed down. "Come on, don't chicken out now."
"I'm chickening out."
"Don't worry, we'll be with you the whole time."
"That makes me more worried."
"It should," Rae admitted, and Maia pinched his ear.
I wrapped an arm around Haru's shoulders, the higher altitude making the air chilly. "I'll make sure you don't fall into the pool."
"What."
"And even if you do, you'll just swim out."
Maia shook her head. "Don't hurt the kid this early." She patted Haru's arm. "It'll be fun. I heard they have a sushi chef somewhere."
"Okay, right?" I said. "Where is he?"
"If I find him, I'll let you know."
She better. Mrs. Yang made great mandu but Maia took most of it and left me with a barely-there dinner. And people wondered why the world was cruel.
We continued onward.
The entrance was any door you could find that was open, and I went for the gate through the back way towards the yard since it seemed the safest. The house pulsed in time with screaming laughter and rumbling bass. I narrowly dodged a suspicious puddle on the black stone flooring as we turned the corner, and became bombarded with noise.
Haru said something to me and I furrowed my brow, the beat of the blasting music so loud and so violent it drowned out everything but the yells.
Haru tugged me down, shouting into my ear. "What's happening?" he tried.
I turned back to him, smiling. "A party, Haru!" I yelled back.
Maia and Rae were already descending into the concentrated crowds of kids, the blue light of the pool cascading over the massive walls and the open cityscape below. I peered inside through one of the archways, and pushed Haru forward.
"Come on," I called. "There's a table over there."
Luckily, he humored me, and we made our way inside.
Most of the lights were shut off to allow shadows to criss-cross over the crowd. Only a few lanterns hanging down from the ceiling were left on, but they were more than enough to see the sights of the Jungle.
In the long, open foyer, with tables pushed up against each other, leather seats discarded to the very end against the rounded windows, and a grand piano with three girls draped drunkenly unfitting over it, were at least twenty people with cups ready to fill of every possible alcohol imaginable, the sodas relegated to their sad corner at the very edge, far out of sight.
"What in the world," Haru said, and I nodded.
"A whole new world," I told him, ushering him towards one end of the massive display. "Check it out."
Gin, vodka, whiskey, beer, rum, brandy, cider, wine coolers, cocktails, sake, and soju were all lined up in glasses or bottles or jugs across the expanse of the connected tables. Jack Daniel's to Coors to Smirnoff to Hennessy to Bacardí to Jinro to Corona to Captain Morgan to Absolut to Don Julio to Tanqueray to Junmai. Gold, green, black, blue, silver, white, red, purple, pink, glassy. A few bottles looked too cheap to have been brought by the twins themselves, and others looked too expensive to have been brought by anyone but. Some were half empty, some were mostly full, some were all gone, and almost all had been opened at least once.
It was every shelf imaginable displayed right in front of us, there for the taking with none of the price and every single chance of trouble.
The tasteless weight of a sleeping pill echoed down my throat, and I grasped Haru's shoulders.
"Which one you wanna try?" I asked.
Haru gawked. "Which one...is safe?"
"None of 'em," I admitted, because it was true.
I scanned over the inordinate amount of alcohol, trying to see which would go down easiest, before settling on a bottle of half-drunk rum and snagging a plastic cup. I dragged Haru towards the sodas and took the barely-touched bottle of Coke, pouring the two down.
"Rum and Coke," I explained, the bass still drowning out most of my voice. "Not too strong." I handed it to him. "Drink up."
Haru stared at the cup like I'd given him someone's blood. The flashing lights from behind lit him up in black shadow and neon watercolor. Cloud Avenue slithered back to my vision.
I glanced around before snagging a beer out of a pack, gesturing it at him. I pushed it against the edge of the table, slamming it down to pop off the cap, foam blooming around the mouth.
Haru clutched his cup and I leaned closer. My hand gripped his forearm.
"Don't think," I said. "Just try it."
He faced me, the same open and pleading look painted over his face like last time, as if he was trying to find a better answer than what I'd given. When he saw there was none, he just nodded.
I held up my fingers, counting down from three.
Three, two, one—
He tilted the cup back just as I lifted the bottle to my lips.
Beer hit my tongue and throat; bitter, watery, icy, and threatening a grimace in my eyes. I pulled away, just to see Haru staring down at the cup with a frown.
"Not good?" I yelled.
"Tastes like Coke," he replied.
"Just wait," I said, laughing. I pushed the cup to him. "Down it and we'll get a different kind."
Haru blinked. "How hard does it hit you?" he yelled.
"Guess we'll see!"
And to my shock, he took that on faith. In one go, Haru downed the rest of the cup.
This would be fun.
But before I could comment on that gutsy move of his, two arms collapsed around my neck, pulling me right out of the moment.
"Angel!" Maia boomed in my ear, breath already scented with vodka. "Haruki! Flip cup, upper level, c'mon."
"Drinking games? I thought you hated those," I called back, discarding my beer without another sip.
"Rae's got me on his team, so I can't get out of it. Might as well drag you two into it, let's go. Angel, play ref."
She snagged both of our arms, dragging us from the table to the winding staircase guiding us to the second floor.
Rae whooped as we arrived. Similar to downstairs, they'd made use of the two bright white dining tables at the center, couches pushed in discard, and gaping window letting the world watch us in sin. It was fucking horrible, and fucking exhilarating, which was a good party at its finest.
"My team, my team," Rae called, shoving us to one end of the table. "Jada, get your ass in gear, would you?"
Haru spun on me, clutching at the empty cup like it was his lifeline. "I don't know how to play."
"Calm down, it's simple." I pointed at the lined up cups, filled minimally with golden beer. "All right, see those cups? You gotta drink them one by one, and after you drink one, you have to flip it so it lands rim down. Once you go through all the cups, the next round starts with your other member with this table's cups." I pointed at the second table closest to us. "Basically, whichever team gets through all of its members first, wins. Got it?"
Haru swallowed. "I...what if I can't drink the beer?"
"You allergic?"
"No, but I've never done it!"
"It'll taste bad, trust me," I said. "But alcohol is mind over matter, so just down it as fast as you can and by the third cup, you'll probably be used to it."
"What."
"Just trust me. If you start to look sick, we'll call a time out, promise." I faced him with urgent eyes. "Be valorous, Haru! Brave the beer! Flip the cup!"
He chewed his lip. "But—"
"Nope! No 'but's'. You nailed bowling, I'm pretty sure you can nail this," I said, and grinned wide. "Have valor, my good man!"
"You're horrible," he breathed.
"With pride," I said.
"Let's go!" Rae demanded.
I was on refill duty for Rae's team which consisted of him, Maia, and Haru. My beer pack was ready at my feet as I stood at the head of the table. Jada—a speech and debate junkie that had a long time flip cup feud with Rae since sophomore year—was ready at her side with her own team—also speech and debate junkies.
Party raging Asians plus one honor roll Asian, versus a team of avid debaters. Equal amounts insane and competitive on either side.
Finally. Something fucking interesting.
"Newbie?" the girl next to me said, pointing to Haru. Samantha, lacrosse goalie, and a Grade A bitch.
"Yup," I said.
"Looks a bit shy for being here," she jabbed.
I gave a sharp smile at her. "Give it a minute."
She faltered.
I turned back. "Everyone start...now!"
And start they did.
Rae was up first against Jeremy—thick glasses, thicker skull, and thicker wallet. Lucky for Rae, the night was young enough he hadn't had too much to drink to lose any coordination just yet.
Also lucky for Rae, because Jeremy was a serious lightweight.
"Ppali ppali!" Maia snapped. "Ppali masida!"
Rae flipped the last cup on the fourth try, and cheers erupted like thunder in the surrounding crowds. I saw bills exchange between hidden hands in the crowds.
Maia went next. She pushed up the sleeves of her furry jacket and began guzzling the beer like it was her key to survival.
"Joa, joa, joa," I called. "Flip it faster."
"Shuddup, Angel!" she snapped, downing the next one.
We were three ahead of the next girl—Tate, overtly tall and enjoyed older men—which gave us a good gap as she was clearly struggling with her flipping skills. But Maia was almost done, and by the looks of it even under dim light and strobe flashes, Haru was pale with terror.
I refilled the final cup just as Maia finished. She gave a loud whoop, coming back around and crashing onto Haru.
"C'mon, c'mon," she said, pointing. "Go, go! It'll be fun, you'll do great!"
"Wait," he sputtered. "I don't—I don't even think I can—"
"Learn in the moment," Rae said, watching as Tate finished second to last one. "Better now than later, you got it, little man."
They pushed him to the front of the table. He just stared.
The crowd began to shout, verbally shoving him to go go go go start, just start, what are you waiting for?
Haru froze. I watched Tate chug the final drink.
"Haruki," Rae urged. "Come on."
He didn't move. I pursed my lips.
All right. Call me irresponsible and stupid, because you're probably right, but table it for a second.
I shoved past the hoards of people and met Haru with our shoulders touching. He looked up.
"Angel," he said. "Angel, I have no idea—"
I grabbed the cup. "Don't think," I said. "Just do."
"Hey!" Jade snapped. "You can't just—"
I downed the beer, feeling it hit my throat in a wave, before slamming it back down. Even with my broken rules in my wake, the crowd began to cheer.
The cup sat halfway on the edge and I gestured wildly at Haru. "Flip it."
"I don't—"
"Flip it, Haru. Just one flip."
He hesitated, then reached and pushed it up. With a resounding echo, it landed right on its rim.
"Yes!" Maia cried.
"Now you." I held the next cup up to him.
Haru pursed his lips, face set in a burning determination, and snagged it. He downed the entire thing and hacked right after.
"Set it down," I said. He did, and I sprung it up. It landed flat and perfect. I hit his shoulder. "See? No sweat, you're a pro. Try it."
Haru turned back to the third cup, lifting it to gulp down the liquid, before slamming it back down with a pinched expression and flipping it up.
It faltered for a few moments, then rang true as it circled down. I clapped in approval with the crowd.
"Let's go, Haruki!" Rae screamed.
Jada was on her second to last cup, and I watched it fall as she flipped it. Haru grabbed his own, eyes shut and face in a permanent grimace as he finished it. He set it on the edge.
Jada flipped hers. Haru flipped his.
They landed.
Maia jumped up and down, fist in the air. "You got it, come on!"
"Come on," I murmured.
He finished his. She finished hers. The cups rested on the edge. The crowd roared.
They flipped.
Haru's landed.
Jada's didn't.
"What the fuck," she snarled at the same time I said, "Fuck yes!"
We swarmed Haru, wrestling him into hugs and screams and slurred admiration. I clapped him on the shoulder.
"Shit, see? See? Dammit, you genius." I laughed, ruffling his hair into a pink mess. "I told you! You're a game champion, for Christ's sake!"
Haru laughed. He threw his head back, hair a rucked up hurricane, and laughed bright and lively and real. His smile greeted me with open arms.
"Thank you," he said. "For helping me."
"Thank you," I replied. "For winning."
He laughed again. I swore I could've gotten hooked on that sound easier than any cigarette, drink, or memory.
Rae's arms slung over our shoulders. "Haruki, you're a goddamn gem. Angel, aren't you driving?"
"Eh, it's a little beer, and I got a good tolerance," I said. "Besides, completely worth it. Jada's gonna be cursing all our names till college."
Rae exploded with a cackle. "She fucking better." He grabbed Haru's arm. "C'mon, kid, you're a better time than you look."
"What's next?" I asked. "Or are you gonna try and jump off the balcony again?"
"Nah, that starts at midnight." He beckoned for Maia to join us as he veered us out from the crowds and towards a hallway. "We're doing a high school classic, kids."
"Say truth or dare and I'll slit my throat," Maia groaned.
"Never have I ever," he said. "Although your offer is tempting."
"Asshole," she snickered. Maia grinned at us. "One round?"
Haru frowned. "How exactly do you play 'never have I ever'? I've only heard of it."
"Oh shit," Rae chuckled. "You're joking."
The short hall led into a smaller living room where a wide fireplace rested and a dozen or so partygoers were all strewn about over the couches, seats, and carpet. A coffee table of Absolut and Smirnoff sat with a tray full of shot glasses, waiting with dangerous invitation.
"Let your game buddy teach you," Maia said.
Haru sat down on the carpet, shoulder pressed into the marble wall of the fireplace as Rae began chattering away and Maia nestled in beside us.
"So," he began. "You drink when you have done something, or haven't?"
"Have," I said, plopping myself down next to him behind the corner of the coffee table. "So someone says something they haven't done, and everyone in the game who has done it has to take—in this case—one shot."
"A shot."
"Of vodka," I said, and held up a hand. "But, vodka is really strong, so I don't know if you wanna do this one."
Haru straightened up, eyeing the bottles. He met my gaze. "Valor," he said. "I'll try it."
I raised a brow. "The beer's already hit you, huh?"
Haru grinned. "Maybe a little."
I laughed, whole-hearted and alive. "Try it we will, then."
Only nine of the fourteen already there were going to play, so including us it totaled out to thirteen. Maia handed me a cup of Sprite as they all took their glasses.
"At least pretend you're drinking," she murmured.
"All right, all right, we'll start tame," Samantha said, standing up. "Never have I ever...drunk-dialed my ex."
Five people reached for a shot, and we laughed.
"Sad," she said, shaking her head. "Get a grip, guys."
"Sit the fuck down, Samantha," a boy slurred.
She sat down.
And the game began.
From crude questions—
"Never have I ever...gone skinny dipping."
Two shots.
—to basic questions—
"Never have I ever...cheated on a test."
Twelve shots.
—and risky questions—
"Never have I ever...lied to a police officer."
Nine shots.
—or risque questions—
"Never have I ever...dated someone a year or more older than me."
Five shots.
—to embarrassing questions—
"Never have I ever...passed out drunk."
Six shots.
—to gross questions—
"Never have I ever...eaten expired food just because it still seemed good."
Three shots.
—and targeted questions—
"Never have I ever...gotten a fake Gucci bag and said it was my mom's when it clearly was a knock-off but then lied about it to my entire chemistry class in third period, Haley."
One shot.
—and forbidden questions.
Maia tilted her head from side to side. "Never have I ever..." She trailed off, glancing around, eyes skimming the crowd only to linger in my direction. "...liked someone of the same sex or gender."
I'd only drunk for the test one—don't judge me—and I gave a quiet glare at Maia for that one, which was clearly a target.
When a single beat passed, I sighed, and lifted my cup.
"Oh, damn," Rae chuckled. "We got two. Hey, don't make out on us, you got that?"
I lowered my cup with a frown, head swiveling to see who the second drinker was.
Maia handed a shot past me.
To Haru.
I watched the glass pass from her to his hand, pink waves over his face as he lifted it back and quick. He wheezed, coughing against the inevitable burn, and Maia whooped.
I gaped. Haru set the glass down in front of him, and lifted his head. He caught my gaze.
The game went on. Rae was next.
I cleared my throat, swirling around the Sprite in my cup because dammit, Angel, get a grip, get a fucking grip.
Tone down the Angel-ness.
"For real?" was all I mustered up to him.
Haru's nails scratched at his jeans. "Is it weird?" he asked, almost mumbled.
I nearly dropped my Sprite. "What? No. No, what? Why would it be weird? Nah. Not weird. Nope."
Angel-ness flaring up sevenfold, as it seemed.
Haru looked back down. I scrambled for something, anything, in the rotting and empty corners of my mind that might provide something. Shit, that vodka was starting to get tempting. I needed the liquid courage.
"Me—I, uh, me too," I blurted. "Me too."
Haru glanced up, black eyes wide and inquiring. I almost fractured under just that.
"You have?" he said.
I lifted my Sprite. "I drank," I reminded, and shrugged. "So yeah."
"Really?"
"Why? Do I not give the right vibes?"
"No. Yes? Wait." Haru shook his head. "I just assumed, I guess."
I waved that away. "Guess I assumed, too. Not that you were gay, or...not that I'm assuming you're gay. Bi. Pan. Uh, both? Neither. All of the above. Or...whatever you like." I gulped down the soda, hoping if I imagined hard enough it would turn to enough alcohol to loosen my racing heartbeat and maybe do us all a favor and shut me the fuck up. "Shit, sorry."
Haru gave a tiny grin. "It's fine." He tapped his nails on the glass. "The...first one though."
They were finishing up Maia's now. Seven shots.
Haru looked back up at me, that same questioning in his gaze that I could never figure out. I swallowed.
"Second one," I said, then, "Guess we're a better suicide buddy match than we thought."
I didn't realize the words that escaped my mouth until Haru's silence stretched for far too long and gave my malfunctioning brain a moment to comprehend my words.
My eyes went big. "Wait, no, I meant—"
"Angel," Maia slurred. "C'mon, your turn. Ya. Your turn."
I looked at the crowd. I ransacked my mind.
"Uh, I...never have I ever—"
Accidentally ruined my entire life and a good friendship in a matter of seconds because I'm a world renowned idiot and my suicidal tendencies are slowly spreading to my social life and that won't do, no siree, except I have done that and Jesus Christ almighty why the fuck did I do that?
"—gotten into a car accident?"
Five shots. And a half-truth, if a clip from bad parking didn't count.
"M'kay, Haruki," Maia called. "You're next."
Haru pursed his lips. "Never have I ever..."
He looked at me. I looked away.
"...kissed my best friend."
Ten shots.
I looked down at my own cup.
Valor.
I didn't drink.
"Game over," Samantha drawled. "This shit's boring! Let's go."
The crowd dispersed. Maia clung onto Haru, hauling him to his feet.
"Checkin' off your alcohol list, Haruki," she giggled. "Party's boring up here. Downstairs we go! Rae, stop makin' that face, let's jus' go."
I got to my feet. Haru turned back to me.
I stitched a smile into my skin. "Go. I can't drink more."
"Angel," he said.
"Go," I urged. "I'll meet you down there. Maia's getting impatient, just go."
"Angel—"
"Haru." I pushed him towards Maia, who was already whining. "Have fun. Really." I gave a half-hearted wink that felt out of place. "Just don't drink the green stuff."
He never got a chance to respond, Maia and Rae too busy lugging him down the stairs with shouts and incoherent screams. I watched them go, the white noise of muffled party chaos and scattered, low-voiced conversations surrounding me.
I set my Sprite down. Being the driver sucked.
I ran my fingers through my hair as if to try and wrench the apprehension out of my body. I promised Haru I'd stick with him, and with Maia and Rae already drunk, I had little faith in their coherency to keep him from getting sick, or worse.
"Dammit, Angel," I murmured. "Buck up, for Christ's sake."
Tone down the Angel-ness.
My feet began to move towards the staircase, when my phone rang loud as an alarm.
I wrenched it out of my pocket, checking the caller ID. When my uncle's name appeared in white, my lungs closed.
Shit.
I hurried off through a hall, reaching around for an unlocked doorknob. When I found one, I pulled it open, revealing a tiled bathroom, and slammed the door shut.
"What?" I said into the phone.
"Where the fuck are you?" he snapped.
Shit.
"I'm...at a friend's house," I lied. "Why?"
"You took the car?"
"Yeah. I thought you were off work tonight—"
"You idiot, that's tomorrow. I've got a shift in ten minutes."
"Can't you just call an Uber or a friend or something?"
"I'll be just as late even if they come now." He sighed. "What the hell is wrong with you? I told you this last night. And you're at a friend's house doing fucking what?"
I clenched my fists. "I got a project due later in the week."
"Bullshit. You never do your homework. Are you with a girl or something?"
"What? No. Calm down. I can't return the car to you right now, this is important."
"What's the deal with you these days? Jesus Christ, you're going out, you're taking the fucking car all the time, and you were cheap on your cut of the rent. You think I wanna go to work for your ass every fucking day?"
Black and red bloomed in my throat. I spat it out in, "I never asked you to."
"Bring the car."
"No," I snapped. My heartbeat climbed up my throat, through my stomach, down my spine. "Find another ride."
"Ya, mworago? You think I'm kidding?"
I closed my eyes, leaning against the sink. My voice bounced off walls and white tile, my fury twice as loud.
"I can't bring it. Not right now, not for a while, okay? Find another ride, I'm sorry."
"Either get the fucking car to me in the next ten minutes, or you're done."
"Done?" I snapped. "Done with what?"
He paused. "Don't push me."
"With what?" I snarled. "You work for half the rent and get groceries maybe once a week at most. I clean the house. I cook the food. I do the bills while you're too tired or drunk to. Done with what?"
Tar filled my mouth, my mind. I would regret this. Hindsight says I would regret this so fucking bad, but I kept going. Maybe I was wrong, and my tolerance for alcohol wasn't so great, and the beer was starting to loosen my tongue into darker territory.
I couldn't care, though.
What have you ever done for me—
"You wanna play adult? You think you can do any of this shit without my help? Are you an idiot? Are you mental?"
—that I couldn't have done for myself?
"More stable than you. Why don't you ask your fucking bottles for help?" I snarled.
My lungs burned. My head burned.
What have you done for me—
"Get me the car, Angel, or I swear to God..."
—that has gotten me anywhere but that rooftop?
I chewed my lip so hard it bled. Fever flooded my mouth. Fever flooded me. Flooding.
I was drowning.
You're drowning me.
"I own the fucking car, asshole," I yelled, shoving myself away from the sink to yell into the wall. "You have no right to that car or me or anything you say you fucking do for me." The world inverted. Heat screamed in my face, in my hands. "Get your own ride and stop asking me to do your bidding like I owe you shit. I don't owe you shit."
What have you done for me—
"Get it? I don't owe you fucking anything."
—that I could ever be grateful for?
The line was quiet, my own breathing and thundering heartbeat the only noise aside from the faint party outside the bathroom walls.
Then, "You think I ever wanted you? You think anyone ever wanted you anyway?"
And there was so much unspoken venom in that, I nearly screamed.
"You're fucking done."
The line went dead.
If I could afford it, I would have thrown my phone to the door and watched it crumble. But I couldn't. So I slumped onto the edge of the bathtub and let it slide to the floor instead. The frosted windows cascaded nothing but neon and gold over the tile. My eyes squeezed shut, and tears threatened to spill out of them in feverish drops.
It all felt like one sick nightmare.
My uncle's voice came with fever. Bruises, blood, glass dishes and cups, butter knives and heavy books came with fever.
And I was tired.
The sleeping pills came to my head, and a dark part of me wanted it like nothing else.
I shoved my hand into my pocket, withdrawing the pack of Camels I'd taken. Pretending the nicotine would be enough to numb me, I stuck it between my teeth, and wrenched open the door.
Up and down, hands shaking so bad I could barely hold anything I touched. Up and down. Over and over.
You're fucking done.
I wrenched open a kitchen cabinet. My hands tore through its contents, before feeling the familiar smooth layer of a lighter.
I pulled it out, flicking it on and putting the flame to the end. Smoke curled up, and the end burned with amber heat.
My back hit the kitchen island. I slid down, tearing the cigarette out to bury my face into my hands. They only shook. Everything shook. Everything in fever.
You're fucking done.
"Dammit," I breathed out, acrid tendrils over my legs. "Dammit."
Stop. Stop.
Don't think.
Don't think, for fuck's sake, don't THINK.
"Dammit."
The night ran like black liquid over my body, and I let it drown out the world into nothing.
I lost the time as quickly as the cigarette burned down to the golden end.
I'd been so neck-deep in my own head for the better half of the party, I didn't even realize how much of it I'd lost until I heard the faint slur of a girl into her own phone beside me.
"Jus' eleven," she said and laughed. "Not that late, don' worry."
Eleven?
I checked my phone.
11:46 P.M.
Fuck me.
I scrambled to my feet, throwing the cigarette into the sink and shoving my phone back into my pocket. Two hours. How had more than two hours already passed?
My phone had no messages from Maia, Haru, or Rae, and the lack of them made me bolt even faster down the stairs, descending towards the first level.
The party was in even worse swing now, the table of alcohol half turned over and completely drained. Music blasted double its power through the whole house, and I could feel it scream in my skeleton. Bodies were up against bodies, crowding the entire floor all the way from the stairs to the pool, infested with heat and substance.
I shoved my way through, calling for them uselessly over the pounding bass. One girl knocked a drink back too fast and it splattered everywhere, droplets landing on my jacket.
People were out of control. The piano was open, people sitting in and on it. Several windows were broken through completely, others stained with unknown liquids. A few pairs of heels were even scattered over the floor, next to strange puddles or abandoned belongings.
I got all the way to the other end of the house before I spotted them.
And holy shit.
They were in between the inside archways and the outside patio, a group of stolen couches circling around a table of bottles, jugs, and emptied cups.
Maia was on top of it, dancing to anything but the beat, with her hair undone and heels digging into broken glass, Rae busied himself with a girl draped over his thigh and trying to find his lips with her nose, and Haru—
—was unrecognizable.
His flannel was gone to God knows where, his usually down pink hair had been mussed and raked through beyond recognition, and the composed sit of his body had turned to a freely open swaying. As if it wasn't jarring enough, he was howling laughter like there was no tomrrow.
I slowly approached them, mouth agape. "Haru?" I asked incredulously.
Black eyes turned on me, and a smile spread on his face to turn them into crescents. "Angel!" he yelled cheerily, waving. "Angel. Angel, Angel, hey."
The other strangers on the bench were chattering to each other and smiled with the same sleepy manner. I gaped.
Maia looked down. "Ohmagod," she drawled. "Angel! You made it!"
I shook my head, grabbing her hand to pull her down. She stumbled a bit, and I caught her hip to set her on the ground.
"What the fuck?" I hissed at her. "How much did you two have?"
"Jus' one bottle," she protested. "Or...two. Or three. Or four." She giggled. "M'kay, five. A trillion!"
"Maia, you've never drank that much, what's wrong with you?" I turned on Rae, still far too preoccupied to notice me. "What were you—"
"Shuddup, that's Reyna." She waved across from me. "Fuckin' hell, girl!"
"Wait, hey, you can't just—"
She dashed—stumbled—her way from me, disappearing into the crowd. I groaned. I wanted to go after her, but I had bigger issues on my hands.
I turned back to Haru, who was beaming at a blank space in the air.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered. I stepped over broken glass and discarded glasses, reaching for him. "Come on, get up."
Haru groaned, going limp. "Don't wanna."
"Too bad. Get up." I draped his arm over my shoulder, lugging him from the couch. He tripped over his foot, falling against my chest. "Jeez, Haru, what happened?"
He turned his head up to me, giggling. "Nothin' happened. Had fun. You said so." And when he spoke, nothing but bitter, burning alcohol hit my nose.
I coughed at it, making my way back around the crowd best I could. Haru swayed with the wind.
The stairs came into view and I hurried for them, thanking the Lord that Haru was light. His feet kept fumbling over each other, and over mine, so much so I was considering just slinging him over my shoulders entirely.
We got up the first step.
"Christ, Haru," I said. "How much did you drink?"
"Not that much," he slurred. "Jus' some beer. Some shots, too. Oh, and Rae showed me this weird thing called an absinthe? Kinda...kinda bougie." He let out a shriek of a laugh unheard of from him before. "Used it. You proud'a me?"
I almost laughed myself. Haruki Nakamura drunk. I thought I'd never see him anything less than straight lined and stiff. Yet, here he was, anything but that.
"Sure, Haru," I said, heaving him up the last few steps. "You reek."
"Eureka!" he cried, arms flailing out, and cackled. "Get it?'
I was tempted to record the moment, but trying to fish my phone out with Haru moving as he was proved too tall an order. I made my way through the second floor's kitchen.
"Yes, Haru," I said. "Eureka."
"Angel." His breath hit my neck. "Angel, Angel, Angel."
I set him down on one of the nearest benches. I pulled the fridge open and grabbed a bottle of water and a banana. I held them in one arm as I hauled Haru up with the other. Lifting boxes really did pay off after all.
"Angel," he said again. "Angel, Angel, Angel—"
"Yes, Haru?" I sighed, spotting the open door of the bathroom.
"Smell cigarette-y." He pressed his nose into my shoulder. "'S bad for you. Stop that."
Well, even drunk, at least some things didn't change. "Yes, Haru."
"Angel," he sang.
"Yes?"
"Mm, smell fruity."
"Thanks." I pushed the door open. "Now stay awake for five more minutes, yeah?"
He laughed at that.
I dropped the banana and water on the low countertop. This bathroom was far more elongated than the one I'd been in, rows of three sinks and wide mirrors presented all the way down under pure white light. I shoved away some personal creams and perfumes, pushing Haru against the edge.
"Sit up here," I said.
When he struggled to comprehend that command, opting instead to collapse over it instead, I reached over to pull him the rest of the way up, hands around his waist.
He giggled. Giggled.
"Tickles," he said.
I snorted. "Ticklish," I said. "Haruki Nakamura's ticklish."
"Stop callin' me that," he muttered. "Thought it was Haru. Haru Haru Haru. HaruHaruHaru—"
"Yes, Haru," I said. "You're a mess when you're drunk."
He giggled, hands splaying over the counter. He pushed his hair up, scrunching his nose.
I washed my hands down before grabbing the bottle of water. Haru watched me.
"Whatchya doin'?" he asked.
"You're probably gonna throw up any minute," I said. "If you haven't already. But you get dehydrated when you're drunk, so you should drink this."
Haru leaned his head back at that as if the idea physically exhausted him. It hit the mirror with a thump that echoed dramatically loud.
"Water," he muttered. "H-two-who cares." He laughed again. "I do not."
I raised a brow. "Aren't you an AP chem star?"
"Psh." He waved that away and leaned in toward me, finger wagging. "Star. Psh. Who cares about that when you hate it?"
I frowned. "Thought you liked it." I brought the water over and regretted not bringing a cup as it'd probably be easier for him to drink out of. I searched the cabinets. "Aren't you a school guy?"
"School's for losers." He cackled. "Loser."
"You're good in school."
"'Zactly. Who do I look like to you?" he mumbled. "Some genius?"
I shrugged. I reached over and snagged a plastic cup from the back.
"You're sort of a genius," I said, grinning. "Are you secretly not?"
Haru pushed his hair back so violently I was keen to believe he was responsible for his own pink bird nest. His throat, exposed to the light, moved as he swallowed.
"Secret? Not a secret." He flopped sideways. "Jus' a stupid genius."
I poured the water into the cup. "Says who?"
"Says me." He righted himself, huffing out an alcohol-soaked breath. He squinted. "Guess I'm not even...not even a loser by halves, huh?" Haru scoffed. "Do everythin'. I did everythin'. Whatta genius."
He slumped forward. I paused, water cup still in hand.
"I think you're pretty smart." I placed the cup near the sink, standing in front of him. The party roared outside. "You do everything."
"Nope," he popped. "Not everythin'. Don't drive. Don't make my parents shuddup. Don't friggin' drink." He laughed bitterly. "Wish I'd met you earlier."
I halted. "What?"
"Wish—" His head turned up, big eyes boring into me. "—I'd met you earlier. You're not bad livin' with." He giggled. "Angel."
I pursed my lips. The hairs on my skin stood on end. The water sloshed in the cup.
"Wow," I muttered. "You're really drunk."
He giggled again at that. His arms came up. They draped over my shoulders, around my neck, and the memory of his warmth on my back in the churro line came at me like a freight train.
"Angeeeel," he sang. "Angel."
I shook my head. The laugh that sank out of me fell flat. I planted my hands on either side of the counter edge.
"Come on, Haru," I said. "Just drink the water. You're drunk off your ass."
"Shoulda drank with me," he murmured. His arms tightened around my neck, and I stumbled forward. "Woulda been funner."
"Handsy drunk," I murmured. "Got it."
"No," he protested. "Not handsy."
"Of course, Haru. Let me go, just drink the water."
"Wait, wait, wait." He giggled into my neck. "Wait, shh, shh."
I hesitated.
Haru said, "Angel, Angel, I gotta ask somethin'."
I shook my head with a chuckle. "Nah, man, you don't." I gripped the counter. "Let me go."
"Wait, it's a good one."
"Haru, really, it's late—"
He pulled me further against him and I fell against his body, hands catching on his waist and the counter. Haru's chest pushed on my own.
My heart stopped.
"Don't tell," he murmured, breath on my neck. "'S really a secret."
"Haru," I said.
"You have to answer."
His hands brushed over the top of my spine, and hell I was going to spontaneously combust if he didn't hurry it up. I closed my eyes.
"Fine. Fine," I said. "You ask me the question and then you drink the water and we leave."
"M'kay, yeah."
"Really?"
"Angel, Angel." He laughed, low and almost familiar through all the drunken haze. "Angel, I got a question."
My hand on his waist burned.
I said, "What?"
Haru pulled away just enough to let his breath hit my jaw. Up close, he looked painted and alive, golden and unreal.
Haru said, "Do you like me?"
The world skidded to a halt.
I pressed my other palm into the cool marble counter. Words clashed like symbols in my head.
I said, "You're a good friend."
"No, no, no," he babbled. "Not that one. Like the other one."
"The...other one?"
"The other one," he said. His arms curled tighter. Fingers brushed just barely against the base of my neck and I swore it would be how I died.
I said, "Haru, just...just drink the water."
"You said you'd answer."
"The water, Haru."
"Angel."
"Haru."
He pulled all the way back now, but only to frown at me. River stone eyes, always indecipherable, stared earnestly at me. I could've swam in them. I would.
"Don' get mad then," he muttered. "You didn't answer."
Here, he was right here, he was right here in front of me and I said nothing.
I said nothing but, "I won't get mad." Though about what, I didn't know.
The world exploded as it began.
Haru surged forward, and kissed me.
He kissed in every way he existed: with vigor, with intention, with enough honesty to drown a man. He tasted like bitter vodka and sweet rum and skin's warmth. It made me more drunk than any alcohol that existed or would exist or had. Summer bloomed over my body.
Against better judgement, I kissed him back.
My hands came up around his waist, pulling him flush to me. I kissed him chaste, then open, then warily, then desperately. His hands tore through my hair, nails trailing down my neck. He let out a breath that hit my lips in a wave and I kissed him to follow it.
I kissed him till my lungs burned, till my head couldn't keep straight. He kissed me back. He kept kissing me back and hell alive.
I pushed my palm into his waist, the other traveling up around his shoulder and over his bicep, down and down and down, until I reached his forearm, kissing him through it all. Everything happened in real time, in live action, and I felt startlingly awake.
Let this not end, I pleaded, fingers grasping at his hands still brushing through my hair. Please never end. Just this once.
My thumb slid down, his sleeve coming down with it, and I brushed over the skin there, the softer skin there—
—the skin that was rough with something, where I felt ridges, Raised skin, long and thin, under my thumb, and I opened my eyes just a little, just a bit, because the skin was scarred—
—and it ended. Just like that.
Haru wrenched himself away so violently he nearly fell off the counter, my other hand the only thing keeping him from toppling over. I snatched away the hand holding his wrist, as if I had burned myself.
Haru's eyes were blown wide, body turned away from me. The drunken joy had been drained in a matter of seconds.
Neither one of us moved.
I broke first.
"Haru," I said, low and careful. I reached for him. "Haru, I'm sorry, I didn't—"
He pulled away. "No," he whispered.
I stepped back, what was not even inches now chasms between the two of us. Haru held his wrist to his chest, sleeve still slightly pulled down, but I had no heart to look.
The water had spilled over his sleeves and pants, but Haru didn't seem to care. He stumbled off the counter.
"Haru," I breathed. "Haru, wait—"
"No," he said again. "No, I just...I—"
He caught himself on the wall. I went for him and he pushed me back.
Haru tried to walk for the door but he slipped and I grasped his arm only to stumble in my haste. Nails dug into my shoulder and he tried to wrench me away.
"Wait," I said. "Just, wait, Haru—"
He gave a ricocheting cough, holding his mouth. I cursed and frantically dragged him towards the tub.
I barely managed to push his head over the edge before he promptly vomited the night's contents right down the drain.
He hacked and spat the rest out, groaning. I snagged the bottle of water and a towel. I pushed him gently onto the wall and wiped his mouth.
We said nothing.
He drank the water, hand over his stomach and face dark. When he finished half the bottle, I found my voice.
"Let's get you home. I think you've had your fair share of alcohol for the night," I said.
I extended my hand, and after several moments, he took it. I gestured at my back.
"Come on," I said when he frowned. "It'll be quicker. Promise."
Haru got on, hands warm around my neck.
I pulled out my phone, sending a quick text.
12:22 AM - Angel Young
haru not feeling well. call an Uber
I shoved it back into my pocket, and we made our way out.
Down the stairs, away from the party, until there was nothing but the dark street of the hills of West Hollywood and cool April air to keep us company. Haru's sleeves were pulled all the way up over his hands against my chest.
I could still feel the scars under my thumb, rough and real.
I closed my eyes in some attempt to let the chilly wind kill the memory.
Haru murmured, "I did it."
I startled. "Did what?" I asked.
"Never have I ever," he murmured. "Did it."
Never have I ever...
...kissed my best friend.
My whole chest ached.
"Let's get you home," I repeated.
"Parents aren' home," he said. "Late night. Drop me off."
"I will."
"Angel."
"Yes, Haru?"
"You mad?"
"Are you?"
He hesitated. "Not at you."
I hummed. We kept walking.
I set him down in the passenger seat before starting the car.
It rumbled to life, and we drove.
Drove down, drove on, drove left and right, on the freeway, on the local streets, past Greenway, through and up and over and where the hills lay, where the pretty houses had no lights on inside and Haru returned to out of obligation.
"Which one?" I asked.
"Blue," he muttered. "Blue. White. Yellow flower." He scoffed. "Stupid house."
I squinted under unhelpful streetlights for nearly fifteen minutes before I finally discovered it at the end of the roundabout.
Blue, two stories, white trim, craftsman, and picture perfect without a scratch. It was a nice house. It was a beautiful house.
I got him all the way to the doorstep before he pushed me away, waving a hand and mumbling to himself.
"Thanks," he finally managed, his face presenting me an expression I couldn't read in the dark. "For taking me home."
Thanks. For kissing me.
"I'm sorry," I said.
Haruki opened the door. "Bye, Angel."
And with that, he was gone.
Here, and there, and gone.
Over and over and over.
And I came back.
And my uncle was asleep.
And the apartment was quiet and I smelled like alcohol and my shirt was ruined and my head was buzzing and my back hurt and it was too late and it was too early and it all ended too fast.
I locked the door, slumping against it to slide all the way down till my knees hit my chest, keys discarded, shoes half on, and Camels on the floor.
"Goddammit," I said to no one.
"I'm in love with him."
_________________
12:42 AM - Maia Y.
Wjere r u
i fiund the sushi chef
🍣🍣
Mkkk more fir meee
(wow that's a long chapter, i stayed up too late writing this do forgive me, thank you very much and pls don't hate me next chapter has more cuteness)