I quietly entered the room and walked to the bed where Kyle laid. Kyle looked like shit. His hat covered most of his face, his skin was very pale, and he had a layer of sweat on his skin.
"Kyle," I called.
He didn't respond.
I lightly shook him, and he let out a groan. I took a close look to see that his cheeks were stained with tears. He mumbled something, but I couldn't hear him.
"What was that?" I asked.
He mumbled it again.
"Kyle, I can't hear you," I stated.
"(Y/N)!" he bawled.
I couldn't help but let out a laugh, "What about me?"
"You're not (Y/N). (Y/N) hates me, she wouldn't come to see me," he cried.
"Okay, I think you've had enough of this," I claimed as I tried to take his whiskey away.
Surprisingly, he didn't put up a fight.
"Kyle, I'm going to take you home," I informed him.
"No, not until I apologize," he whined.
"To who?" I asked.
"To (Y/N), she hates me," he cried more.
"I don't hate you," I stated.
"You're not (Y/N), she wouldn't help me right now. She hates me," he sobbed.
"Kyle, I am (Y/N)-"
"Stop lying!" he shouted.
I took a step back and sighed, then an idea hit me.
"Kyle, do you want to see (Y/N)?" I asked enthusiastically.
His eyes widened as he nodded eagerly.
"Okay, then I need you to give me your keys," I told him.
He dug in his pocket and stumbled towards me. I took his arm and lead him out of the house. We passed Bebe on the way out and I sent her a wink. I started to hear her scream and shout again, so I pick up my pace, not wanting to get hit in the face again.
Kyle looked super giddy when we got into his car. He demanded that he dive, but I told him no. He started to cry again, but that only lasted until we pulled into my driveway. Then, his happy mood returned as he ran into my house.