Camp Camp Oneshots and Ministories (normal version)

Sad, drunk boi

They never remembered when he was there, they never remembered when he was at camp and of course they never wrote about it on his camp form. Tears kept rolling down Max's face as he sat dumbly in the Mess Hall's attic, finally alone. The room had been spinning for about five minutes as he drunkenly swayed on the floor. A wine bottle from the cellar on Spooky Island was in his hand, some of it spilling on his jeans. 

"Do you think he escaped from camp?" A male voice said in the Mess Hall below him. 

"How far would he even fucking go? He wouldn't leave without most of his belongings, especially his fucking teddy bear," said another except it was female. 

Fuck, they were looking for him. He knew those assholes didn't care for him one bit. Even if they knew his birthday was the next day, what would they do about it? He wasn't even worth fussing over. His parents never fussed over him, why would anyone else?

All those kids around him and on TV would always have great stories to tell. Going out to dinner, getting that remote control car they saw on that advertisement, having family and friends around them to make sure their day was great. 

At least no one ignored him at camp but they still didn't need to know. He was always told that not everything revolves around him, he was greedy and kids don't get what they want usually. But was it really too much to ask for something other than that same blue hoodie? At least he had Mr Honeynuts, a gift given to him by his friend in the first grade. 

"Do you think he got kidnapped by the Woodscouts?" The male voice, David, asked. 

David cared. David was happy. David mae him happy. He's like a big Honeynuts. 

"Well if he did, I'm not going anywhere near Pikeman," said Gwen. 

Max chuckled to himself, thinking about Gwen's sass. Sassy counselor and happy counselor. And he was the grumpy child to the happy family. There was a slight nausea in his stomach forming as he continued swaying dizzily. 

"Wait David, do you smell something?" Gwen asked. 

"What?"

"It smells like... alcohol."

There was a pause. Max found himself totally invested in the conversation between, what felt like at the time, his camp mom and dad. His real ones would never have had a whole conversation about his whereabouts. 

"Cameron! Are you drinking at camp?" Gwen shouted. 

The sudden "Cameron" made Max jump in his spot before hiccuping. The room was spinning even more as he struggled to stay sitting upright. He laid down, letting the bottle spill all over him. He stared at the ceiling as it spiralled around, not caring when the wine soaked into his hoodie. 

"Did someone just hiccup?" 

Max groaned as the nausea in his stomach got worse. He felt himself gag before rolling over and spilling the contents of his stomach on the ground. His arms struggled to hold his head up as he kept vomiting on the floor. 

"Max?" David asked, his voice laced with confirmed. 

His arms gave out once he was finished, putting him face first in his own puke. He didn't care. One half of his face was wet with vomit while the half that was facing upwards was wet with tears. 

He heard the attic door open followed by a gasp. 

"Max what you doing in here?" He didn't know which counselor that was. 

"Uhhhh," Max groaned in reply.

"Did you puke in here?"

"F-fuck off D'vid," he slurred. He didn't even know if it was David but that was the first name that came to mind.