Tipsy

           

Coloured lights are strung around the room and a tall tree stands proud by a wide window. Music pumps throughout the space as students engage in the 'festivities', or, 'drunkenness', as Pete sees it.

He's stood by the drink table, his hands clasped tightly around a red cup; it's empty. He came with Tin, but lost him not long after the party started. Someone mentioned that he had gone after another guy – Pete can only assume they meant Can, and hope that the kid is good at hiding.

Parties are not exactly Pete's typical scene, and so hovering around the table, on which a red coloured punch bowl stands, is the only obvious course of action. He is alone, on edge, and beginning to overheat.

"Hey," someone near him speaks and so he turns to face them. He doesn't know who they are, and they don't care to introduce themselves. "Aren't you going to grab a drink?"

"Oh, I don't know what to have..." Pete responds, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the music. The other person, a boy, smiles, and takes his cup before filling it with an inch or so of punch. He thrusts it out in front of him with great enthusiasm.

"Try this, it's tropical," he grins, but Pete hesitates.

"Is there alcohol in this?" He asks, holding it to his nose and smelling that distinctive scent. The other boy waves his hand dismissively and laughs.

"Only a tiny bit, I promise you won't taste it." He doesn't take his eyes off Pete, and so the taller boy takes a sip. Upon realising that it really wasn't that strong, he drinks the rest before politely passing his cup back for more.

The other boy simply smiles, filling the plastic cup with more punch, and handing it back, an eyebrow raised.

"Have fun," he calls, before turning to another partygoer.

Pete, unaware of the heat crawling onto his cheeks, swallows more of the punch, when suddenly the effect of the alcohol hits him.

It may not be strong, but it is most definitely there.

For most people, half a cup or so of alcohol would be easily manageable. But Pete is not most people. The music suddenly seems louder to him, and his head begins to feel fuzzy. Foolishly, he drinks some more... and more, before his vision blurs and he's wandering around the room with his hand trailing along the wall.

This is just all part of being a student, right? Trying new things? He takes another swig.

Spurred by drunken confidence, the atmosphere of the party draws Pete to the dance floor, where he starts to sway in time with the music as his head spins faster.

Suddenly, he collides with someone.

"Pete? Is that you?" Pond exclaims, a red cup placed firmly in his own hand, but his body under his own control. Pete's drunken state comes as a shock to him (who is far too used to the gentle guy's polite and careful disposition), and he can't help but laugh.

"Are you drunk?" He asks, leaning close to Pete to be heard over the music, before taking his arm and pulling him to the hallway, into the cool and out of the noise. Pete, a pretty, yet slightly dazed, smile on his face, swirls the remaining punch around in his cup before putting it to his mouth. Pond snatches it from him, and pours it into his own cup.

"Hey!" Pete gasps, "what are you doing?" He doesn't sound angry – more like a child who's had their toy confiscated. He leans against the wall, his hair falling across his eyes.

Pond eyes him in bewilderment as he fishes his phone out of his pocket, chooses a number and presses the device to his ear.

"Ae?" He says, a few seconds later. "Um, I need you to come to the party..." There's a pause, presumably as Ae responds. At hearing Ae's name, Pete looks up eagerly at Pond, and reaches forward to try and grab the phone. Pond bats him away.