Delirium

Bad habits

The room was cramped with the glistening bodies of several college freshmen grinding against each other to the beat of the heavy bass boosted music playing over the speakers. Flashing lights poured over the living room, the floodlights blinding you once or twice as they moved around the crowd, adding to the chaotic mass of people enjoying themselves. Coupled together with the seizure inducing lights and people, the smell was equally as bad, the stench of alcohol mixed with acidic barf, and the three thousand scents of fruity perfume and axe body spray.

You were keeping close to the wall, a red solo cup of something viscous that smelled an awful lot like expired punch was placed firmly in your hand. It had ended up in your hands after a guy had pushed it towards you near the front door, drunk out of his mind on the stuff. It only took you one sniff of the beverage to determine that it was expired sparkling red wine––Fresita to be exact. The stuff was good, normally, when it didn't have the consistency of hand lotion.

As you could tell from the party, there wasn't much thought put into it. Probably some frat boys getting out of hand, attracting a bigger mass of people from all around. It felt nice though, you would admit. Having a large group of people around, leaving you alone but still close enough to interact with was more comforting than staying in your dingy little apartment way off campus.

You pulled away from the wall and started to walk towards the myriad of people dancing, swaying a bit from the intoxicating waft of smells hitting you in the face. It was putrid, making you scrunch your nose at the appalling smell of fun.

God, you needed a drink. And a nice long trail of coke.

"Woah, okay! That's surprising!"

Squashed between a mass of grinding people, you struggled to look towards the source of the booming voice coming from outside of the dance circle. By the stature of his body, it was obvious that the blond guy as tall as the nearest tree was the one who had yelled across the room. He was wildly pointing at you, who was sandwiched between people in dresses and khakis. You tensed your body and started stomping through the cascade of people, even resorting to shoving when they started grinding and holding you back. Well, they were drunk, but consent was still consent.

Alfred, the tall blond, gave you thumbs up when you stomped towards the little group of friends. He jumped up and down like a little puppy, excited to see you as you pulled him into a quick hug, relishing in the fact that he smelled like sweet alcohol.

"You mean it's surprising to see me at parties?" You quipped at Alfred who slickly placed an arm around your shoulder. "Then you don't know me too well, chap."

"Awe, Y/N, that's mean," Alfred pouted.

He pinched you as Freda and Lucretia, two of your best girl friends on campus, laughed at his expense. As much as he acted like a puppy, he was a hot senior and he knew it very well. The white t-shirt he was wearing enhanced his muscles, flowing nicely over his toned chest and arms. He was wearing a jean jacket on top of the t-shirt, effectively hiding his V-shape. You knew he was built like a greek god, and you wanted him to hide it so you could enjoy it all to yourself. It was a selfish thought, but you were a very selfish person. Or else you wouldn't be at this party only to get wasted.

Lucretia, your girl friend on campus from Bio, was as much of a drug head as you. She had gotten involved in her junior year and took off after that. You happened to meet at a sorority party where you both snuck in for the "promised" drugs, and of course she looked beautiful in her natural curly hair and dress. You became friends after that and started hanging out at parties often. Which led you to meet Freda.

Freda was a peculiar character. A girl of her caliber was sure to end up in Harvard or Oxford with the brain capacity she possessed. Instead, she was stuck in little Leebrooke, friends with party animals like Lucretia and you. All because she thought it was fun. And you didn't blame her. What was a life of only studying good for?