Tuesday

"Don't look like that. You're supposed to be having fun, remember?" A plastic red cup is being shoved into his hand and Katsuki is overcome with the desire to splash whatever contents are inside into Shouto's stupid hair. Being stepped on and trampled over by drunk and horny college students is not fun.

"I'm fuckin' astounded that you honestly consider this fun."

"If you'd just stop bitching for ten minutes and try to enjoy yourself, it might not be so bad," Shouto counters, waving down the barkeep to get a refill.

"Fuckin' waste of time is what it is."

"Compared to what? Sitting in our apartment stress eating and crying over your absolute twat of an ex-boyfriend all day?"

"Fuck you."

He glances down into the cup he'd been babysitting to see something dark and sweet, promises of a blackout and a hangover staring back at him.

"What even is this shit?"

"Hopefully something that'll get you to fucking relax. You've been on my nerves all week with this shit."

"It's only tuesday, you fuck."

"My point exactly."

"Fuck you."

Or, Katsuki's best friend abandons him at a night club in hopes to get him over a bad breakup.