Bro's Don't Do This ¿Jyatt/Fack?

Drink till you're numb

(Idek, you can say however old you want them to be in this, I'm only adding the alcohol part because it seemed to fit in this story?? /I see kids their age drink soooo/)

Here I, Jaeden Lieberher, stand on a Saturday night.
Mind fuzzy from the few drinks or should I say cups of bitter tasting liquid that ran straight down my throat, leaving a burning trail of regret.
With my head in my hands, face full of tears and my own hair sticking to it. But I can't even think a coherent thought.
Why tears stream down my now pale face, I have no clue.
Or my mind won't let me have any.
Then my heart races as my legs do, taking me straight to the bathroom to puke.
Only to hear: "occupied"
With my brain staying blank, I push the door open anyways: "dude, what the fu- oh- it's you Jae."
By now I could feel the strain in my neck, confusion was all I knew I was feeling, with my head turned like a confused puppy. I threw up.
Thankfully inside of the huge white bowl that puppies often try to drink out of.
But not this puppy. I had already had way too much to drink.
Just then as I corrected my posture as good as I could, the mirror seemed enticing, it drew me over. Staring at it I saw puke and red all over.
Was I bleeding? Man-
"Madison stop kissing you long enough to let you come puke?"
Ah, so they were kisses. Who wore red lipstick anymore? What a bore.
"Guess so man. I don't remember a thing-"
My voice came out with a shy chuckle until-
"Let me stop you, I'm not trying to be held up in a bathroom with you queer."
Sadness. A tear seemed to make my face strain. They threatened to pour out. Shouldn't I be outraged? Full of anger and fists.
But
I felt nothing but regret and sadness towards the boy with hair that looked of spiraling ramen noodles.
"Queer?"
Is all my cracking, young voice let out.
"Don't remember do you? You tried to kiss me. Of course I said I wasn't a fag and you went to Madis-"
"Why don't I remember-"
"Well you did it."
With that statement the shorter had stormed from the bathroom, leaving my mind a jumbled mess, and so with that a headache came and leaned itself on my brain. Only to make it throb with pain.
At that moment as I heard the door click shut, I started to feel the streams of droplets trickle down my pale cheeks. With each trail making a soft pink.
*random third pov*
Wyatt, right outside of the bathroom, put his back against the door. Realizing what he just did. And his head became heavier, dropping, like it was all out of air, he started breathing as if he could breathe for the whole world. But he knew he couldn't. He was just a boy. A boy who had screwed up a could've been because he was too fucked up to admit his own feelings.