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"Well it was nice of them to let us know it was dress up." I stated, sarcasm lacing my voice.
Me and mick had finally arrived to the party, underdressed and bare handed. It seemed as if this party had already kicked off and set itself into full motion. I'd only worn an old black dress that I'd torn from a hanger inside micks mother's closet, cuffed sleeves and way too short for the occasion but it was better than nothing.
"I mean, Halloween is a couple days away," Mick acknowledged, puffing out a thin layer of grey smoke. "We should've guessed."
He had a point, though it seemed to slip my mind. We entered the front door, the bitter stench of spilt alcohol mingling with sweat hitting the back of our throats. It wasn't an unbearable smell, it was just thick, making it difficult to let out a breath. I quickly surveyed the room, allowing myself to gage the current predicament. My eyes locked instantly on Nancy and Steve, dancing away over in the corner by the kitchen. Weirdly sweet to witness. There are still people swarming in by the dozen, each newcomer sporting a mask or a new hairstyle, false blood was dripping from every corner of the room at this point. The bass of the speakers roared against the floorboards, feeling the heartbeat of the song vibrate through my feet - soothing in a way.
We weave our way through the crowd, dodging on-comers or the ladies on drink number four whose cups were tilting dangerously to the side. Eventually they made it to the kitchen and gathering around the island situated in the centre, they discovered the holy grail - the famous blood punch. For the past few years amongst the 'highers' they have each individually took turns hosting these Halloween parties and at each and every one this bowl of sour, crimson liquid is the centre of ninety nine percent of garden bush blackouts. Whatever is in this thing, is lethal.
"Half gone already, Jesus" Mickeys eyebrows raised in surprise. "Here."
He handed me a blue cup, the liquid almost spilling over the edge. I speedily attach my lips to the rim of it, chucking it down my throat as if I was in a rush. Which I am. There is quite literally nothing worse than being sober at a house party, I'd rather sit and rip my own hair out. Mick followed along as we necked down two cups of booze, knowing we'd need the fuel for the nights endeavours. Part of me remained despondent, missing Joselyn and knowing she's probably sitting home curled up in bed right now. Part of me also misses Billy, but I know it's just the alcohol setting in.
"Oh hey, I didn't know you'd be here." A high pitched, smooth voice entered my ears causing me to turn on my heel and drop the drink from my lips.
I chuckle to myself, though I saw no humour in the situation. "Kathrine."
My eyes travelled over her figure, a pang of jealousy hitting my heart though I attempt to hide it. She'd taken it upon herself to dress as what I'm assuming is Debby Harry from Blondie. Her yellowed hair pin straight, short bangs in the front, adorning a bold red lipstick. The clothes she wore, though there were hardly any, were basic - tiny white skirt, white tank, along with some boots which were (you guessed it) white.
