Look After You. {Luke Hemmings au}

Halloween Party

"Are you kidding me Noelle? There's no way you're quitting now," my best friend complained, tugging my hand, motioning me to come inside. When-why did I even agree to this? Of course the only reason I'm coming is to make Carrie happy, but how could I? I hate parties. No, not like those girls who said they hated parties but in the end they would be the life of the party. I never liked it.

Why, do I need to be inside a room full of drunken people, sweaty bodies all hovering over me, and the smell of throw up filling through my nostrils? Plus, guys dry-humping my back, pulling me towards their smelly breathes, pleading for a one-night stand? I'd rather stay at home, thank you very much.

Yet here I am, wearing a piece of clothing that I'd rather die than putting it on. For the sake of Carrie nagging under my neck, I'd quit her whining by going with her. She's not very fond of parties either, but she's trying to go and see the guy she likes.

Even stepping in to the porch, has gotten me to scrunch my face, and pull my coat tighter to my body. As we got closer and closer in to the house, the aroma of illegal substance starts to fill in my nostrils. I scrunch my face in return, clearly not liking this whole thing about parties.

We stepped in to the house, Carrie offering me to put my coat on the coat hanger as I hand my black furry top at her afterwards.

"Okay, everything is all set. I'm going to find Derek. You coming?" she asked, jumping up and down in excitement. "Oh, no thank you, I don't want my vision will be filled with you and him stuffing tongues in each other throats," I declined teasingly. She winked, and left me at the door.

Great, what am I going to do now?

I walk towards where the kitchen should be, grabbing a new solo cup that's stacked on the counter, filling it with water. I do mean not liking parties. Or drunk. What's the point of stuffing your stomach with alcohol, when you know in the end it's going to come out anyways? Plus, you'll be in your subconscious state.

I sat on one of the chairs on the wall, leaning my back against the wall, drinking my water. Watching people having the time of their lives, jumping up and down, swaying their hips, smooching their lover-or not.

I sighed, knowing that this will take longer than I thought. There's no way I can go back to the dorm, knowing that the car keys are in Carrie's bag, and we did took her car on the way over.

Just as I stood back up, wanting to go the bathroom and lock my self in there for probably thirty minutes, feeling way more anxious than I should, someone bumped and spilled their drinks all over my exposed parts. I looked up, to find someone wearing a giant penis costume, hovering on top of me.

"Watch where you're going!" I yelled at the person, one because I'm upset and my body is sticky now, second because of the loud music.

"Shit sorry," the guy just said that two short words, and left me.

I sighed full of annoyance, then left immediately, trying to find the bathroom. Okay, if you were an architect, where would you put install bathrooms, inside a frat house?

Opening pretty much all of the doors on the first floor, leaving me with nothing but disappointment. Heading towards the second floor, hoping to find a bathroom sooner than expected, probably because my bladder is ready to explode.

Finally finding the bathroom, I quickly lock it, feeling my heart pounding against my chest a little too hard. After doing my business on the toilet, I had no choice but to take off the piece of clothing that Carrie picked out for me, hence I really need to rinse my body off of the alcohol substance that is starting to get tackier.