Band Imagines/Preferences

Mike Fuentes Imagine PT3 (Kinda?)

Mike Fuentes Imagine PT3 (Kinda)

Storyline: If you haven't figured it out by now I'm leaving earth

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-age: 16-

"What if you die in a living room?" I slur, everything around me fuzzy.

My best friend bursts out laughing, which causes me to laugh as she has like three heads.

"Duuuuddeeeeee," TJ slurs, her hair falling in front of her face, making both of us laugh.

My phone dings in the corner and I laugh, forgetting to have turned it off and away.

"Dude you broke the rules," TJ slurs, making both of us laugh more.

We're in her brothers basement while him and his wife are on vacation to Hawaii.

My phone dings again, then a few seconds later starts ringing.

"I got it," I groan, standing up but fall on my side, making us laugh more.

The bong was in the corner, still lit, so the entire basement is flooded with weed.

"Hhelloouuuu?" I answer, laughing as TJ starts biting the air, laughing.

"(Y/N)?" Mike asks.

"HEYYYYY MIKEYYYY" I yell, laughing as TJ falls on her face.

"Dude look it," she says, holding up a bag of cocaine.

"(Y/N) what're you doing?" Mike asks.

"See ya tomorrow!" I say in a high pitched voice, laughing as I hang up and go to TJ, who's already crushing the coke.

-three hours later-

"(Y/N) it's Viccc," TJ slurs, throwing my phone at me while taking another drink of the whiskey.

"What?" I sigh, answering the phone.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

"TJ's brothers house, gosh," I say, hanging up.

"Whoever finishes their side of shots first wins," TJ says, and I see 20 shots set up, 10 on each side.

"And with the finishing touch of half a cup!" she cheers, pouring the rest of the bottle of whiskey somewhat evenly into the cups at the end.

"GO!" I yell, taking the shots a shit ton faster than her, then chug the cup, passing out halfway through.

-MIKE'S POV-

"TJ'S brothers?" I ask, confused.

"She told me she was going to Jessica's..." I trail off, and we all stand up at the same time, going to my car.

"You know where he lives?" Jaime asks, getting into the drivers seat.

"Yeah..." I trail off, giving him directions.

We get there in 20 minutes, no cars in the driveway and the living room light on.

"Let's go," Vic says, and we all get out of the car, going to the door.

After two minutes of knocking, Vic rolls his eyes and pushes the door open, the smell of alcohol and weed hitting us like a truck.

"Shit..." Jaime whispers, and I walk in to see (Y/N) passed out, a half empty cup in her hand, pouring out onto the carpet- her friend in a similar state a few feet from her.

"FUCK!" I yell, jumping over the couch and turning her on her side, while Vic goes to TJ, doing the same.

"What do we do, man!" Tony asks, looking around.