”Last beer? Oh, oh... Ha, sorry dude.” King’s eyes were drawn automatically to the pill bottle in Jasper’s hand, and as the other man drew closer he reached out to snatch at the bottle and money. The bill came into his possession first, crisp and wealthy in both appearance and feeling. He eyed it irritably, then moved to grab the pill bottle, shifting it into his hand with a nick of the lid and a nearly broken fingernail. ”Never said I was going out, ya know~” He teased with a smirk, leaning forward to shove the bill in his back pocket before he twisted and tugged at the pill bottle cap, ”But just for you, Jay-baby, and for more deets on the Caldwell party that I am just hearing about right now what the heck? Social media failed me again this morning, I guess.” King gave a low laugh, lips still quirked, and then brushed passed his roommate to grab a cup of water and swallow down the remaining two pills.

While King went to grab water, Jasper trailed behind him, his sluggish speed picking up with a mission of retrieving a snack. Reaching up into one of the cabinets above the stove to get his first unhealthy meal of the day, he contemplated his options, quite use to the boombox in his head. There was an unreasonable amount of Hostess products in this one cabinet but most boxes only had one or two more left. Today, he decided to have a Wanger. Might as well fuel his body for inspiration. Inspiration to get his ass out the house and do something before the party. Maybe text a bud up and do meaningless things around NYC. That was always fun to do--avoid responsibility, get a hot dog from his favorite stand, watch some performers but “forget” to give them money, walk away from pigeons that liked to shit on him, talk to a homeless guy… what an ideal day he’d say. It wasn’t long before Jay strolled to the outside of his bedroom wall to lean up against it. His bedroom was directly in front of the entrance door and despite the fact that his room was one of the smaller ones, he liked having quick access to the Kitchen, the exit, and the blue bathroom. As he leaned against the chateau brown painted walls, Jay took a nice bite into the chocolate-will-probably-give-him-diabetes-cake.

Though the aching haze in his mind remained for a few more endless moments, King tried his best to compile the very short list given to him into something to remember. The hum of his migraine chased away words, however, and he was left with just the sound of swishing water in his mouth and the faintest indication of footsteps just beyond their front door. He turned back to Jasper after another quiet second, rolling the cricks out of his neck as he said in a sing-song voice, ”I’ll be heading out now then~! If you need anything else text me.”

And then there was knock at the door.

And King was suddenly hit with a memory that had evaded him all morning. It was as if he were moving faster than light as he whipped out his phone and scrolled through his messages again. Mom, mom, mom, Az, mom, Az, Az, dad, Bart, Az, Az-- Alex’s name stood out among the spam of countless others. Alex Novak. The girl King was almost able to call his best friend.

guess who's coming back into your life and giving it any sort of meaning!!!

I should be arriving at the apartment in about twenty. cant wait to see you again! <3

Perking his eyebrows with intrigue but also annoyance, Jasper mumbled to himself, as his ears listened to the movements of his roommate and his brown orbs stared fixedly at the door, “Who the hell wants to visit us?” Morning/day visitors weren’t a common thing for the two men since they spent most of their day out and about. It was more usual to have the occasional ladies or fellow bros raid their house at night.

”Oh man!” King yelped, voice raising easily above the subdued mumble he had sported before. He moved through the kitchen and living spaces like some kind of trained marine, hopping over discarded shirts and shoes and misplaced chairs with ease despite his still pulsating head. Before another knock could pound against both the door and the pain behind his eyes he slipped open the lock and pulled back, instantly opening up the apartment to the brunette standing in front of him. King fought back and utterly cheesy smile. ”Hey, Allycat,” He purred, eyes glittering in the half-light of the complex’s hall, ”Long time no see.”

Once King opened the door, Jasper’s eyes widened not expecting to see a fairly good-looking woman waiting on the other side. Being socially awkward at times, he took another bite out of his cake and stared at the woman, his big eyes contemplating what he was seeing. Nope, didn’t expect this at all.

And there he was: Richard King. While most people were generally captivated with his attractive, structured face and features, Alex could only see the boy standing in front of her as he was. She no longer looked at him and saw the cocky playboy that had caught her eye and made her approach him. When green eyes met vibrant blue, all she could see was this boy who loved his guitar and songwriting and was afraid of rainy nights and would press their foreheads and faces really close when one of them was upset and watch sports with her. Then he smiled... and she couldn't contain herself anymore.

Pulling her duffel bag off her shoulder and letting it fall to the side without any care, she let the briefest of breaths escape from her lips. The sound a strange mix of sigh and exhale that felt like the calm before the storm. "You're here," she whispered, as if she didn't believe he would be. Richard only got a glimpse of her emotional smile before she barreled into him with all the force her small, little body could muster, attempting to convey how extremely happy and relieved she was that he was here. Pressing her face into his chest as far as she could, she wrapped her small arms around his body, not wanting to let him go, a hum of contentment rumbled quietly in her chest as she smiled gently at the feel of being in Richard's embrace.

King grinned widely down at the small woman. He grinned and grinned and grinned until his cheeks ached and his headache flared like some kind of wildfire. With a teasing voice he purred, ”’Course I’m here. Have to be, kinda stay here, ya know?” and with whatever strength he could muster despite his screaming limbs he twirled and lifted Alex up into his arms. Choked laughter turn to a hiccuped groan, however, and after one or two spins around the entrance way he stalled and let his friend fall back down to her feet with a hefty thump. ”Jesus, no more of that for now.” He hissed, berating himself, and then he squirmed out of Alex’s arms and sat back on his heels, smile falling to a cocky smirk. It was brilliant in it’s own right, but nothing compared to the wild perk of the lips he revealed before.

Alex made a surprised noise at the feeling of being lifted a whole half a foot above the ground before laughing lightly while being spun, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck to prevent herself from falling. Exhilaration coursed through her as she buried the side of her face into Richard's neck, a giddy smile on her face as she came into contact with the taller boy once more. However, it quickly morphed into a frown as she was placed back on the floor unceremoniously. It was very rare for Richard to have any struggle with carrying her since she didn't weigh much and he was pretty athletic. Dropping her arms to her side, Alex furrowed her eyebrows and watched her friend as he attempted to compose himself, not being deterred from observing his movements by his smirk. "What's wrong?" she questioned in a serious tone that was rarely used with him. Standing on her tip-toes, she brought a hand up to press the back of it against Richard's forehead, a concerned scowl pulling on her lips.

”Hangover. No need to worry~.” King rolled his head to and fro, wincing as he literally felt his skull shift with the motion. A wish to be sick came and went, followed by a blind moment as he straightened and fought against the idea of vertigo shoving him off his feet. And then he was oddly aware of everything again and his smile grew into another grin. ”God, anyway-- how are you? Jesus it’s been forever. Have a good flight in? Everything going we--”

What the hell was this? Jasper wasn’t fond of not being acknowledged, he understood this woman could be one of King’s booty calls but man, really? Waiting rather impatiently for them to finish their sentimental-I-haven’t-seen-you-in-forever moment, the senior student took a larger bite of his cake. Not paying attention to his chewing, he felt a sudden, and oh so familiar, sting in his throat as he inhaled the cake into his lungs. Loudly, he started coughing up his Wanger, which would most definitely make his presence known. Beating his chest and trying to gain his composure once more, the older man had a moment of near death. After choking and DYING, the piece of bread made it out of his throat and back into his mouth. With minor tears in his eyes, he swallowed the cake back down.

“Don’t need to call an ambulance, I’m alive.” With a miniature piece of cake left, he stuffed the rest in his mouth. His gaze met with the woman’s green orbs as he chewed in silence. This time, without the choke. After he swallowed it with ease, Jay made his way to the female, cleaning his right hand fingers with his mouth, making that obnoxious sucking noise, and then wiping it on his pants. Crossing his arms, the artist surveyed the oddity.

“The name’s Jasper. Another babe?” He brought his attention to his roommate, still having no idea that this woman was going to be here to stay.

Alex rolled her eyes as an affectionate gesture as Richard explained why he was feeling so distressed. Pulling her hand away and landing back on her feet, she gently ran her fingers down the inside of his arms before stopping at his rough hands and holding them with her own. Just as she was about to smile lovingly up at the blonde, a loud sound from behind her caused her to jolt and turn in surprise. Unknowingly, the shorter girl pulled closer to her friend, an arm pressed to his front. Seeing some strange, older man in the kitchen coughing up food, Alex watched the whole event unfold with a creased brow and judgmental expression, not even making an attempt to help the choking man. After the whole ordeal was finished and the man did not die, the only verbal response the brunette gave was a very curt, "Ew."

As if the man didn't know he was a disgusting slob, he carried on with eating the cake he had apparently been choking on in an uncivilized manner, prompting Alex to only narrow her brow deeper and open her mouth in repulsion. Once he was finished eating (if it could even be considered that), he approached the two friends while cleaning himself in the most undignified way. Eyeing the stranger as he wiped his dirty fingers on his pants, Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

She was just about to ask Richard who this man was when he introduced himself. She might have not taken his hand if he had offered it like a normal person but at least responded back with her name albeit reluctantly. Of course it was a moot discussion since what had actually occurred was nowhere close. Immediately, Alex felt offended at this "Jasper's" words. Taking on a more hostile expression now, the smaller girl turned around completely with her arms crossed against her chest to fully face whoever the hell this guy thought he was. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" she demanded, tone biting.

Although the tense atmosphere lasted for just a few seconds, Alex was ready to launch herself at Jasper at any given moment. Thankfully Richard sensed the mood and intervened before anything else could go beyond a few aggressive words. ”Uh! Allycat!” King stepped between the two in an instant, taking Alex by the wrists as he pulled her close and shared a secret, charming smile. Just for her, only for her. ”Ignore him, he’s-- uh. Drunk. Hunger over too." It if were anybody else, Alex would have foregone their attempts to pacify her and continue being verbally abusive to the person who had pissed her off. But it was Richard, so naturally she made the exception for him. Looking at him, she registered that he was using that smile, that smile he rarely ever wore because she could read it for what it was: a request from him. After a moment, the girl's expression softened, barely paying attention to the words Richard was trying to use to excuse the other man in the room.

Whatever, here,” He released her and gathered whatever bags she had brought into his arms, placing them in the living room beyond messily. It was more out of a wish to get her away from Jasper rather than a wish to help her settle. Once Richard let go of her arms to go bring in her items (with much ease, she saw), she returned to her default position of crossing them over her chest and staring hard at Jasper, widening her eyes in challenge. After everything was set inside King tugged Alex out of the apartment and into the hall. As the door drifted closed he shot Jasper an apologetic look, and then another crazed smile, and finally it was just him and Alex in the half-lit compex. Alone for the first time since… Well, the last time he saw her. However, the girl was still annoyed at what had just happened and was silently fuming by herself. King awarded the moment with another bear hug and a crisp laugh and only when the blonde pulled her into a tight embrace did Alex try to relax, being stubborn for just a few moments more before giving in and returning the hug.

The two friends were silent for just a moment as they basked in each other's presence, the momentary peace being broken when Alex commented, "I really hope that wasn't your one night stand from yesterday? I'd like to think you haven't lowered your standards that badly."

”Okay, yeah. That was, uh, Jasper. He kinda owns the place and he’s a bit of a boy.” King leaned in and whispered the last part, as if the word itself was drenched in something toxic. The fact he cocked his head and quirked his lips further, however, could show that it was anything but. At the new information, Alex's expression was one of surprise before clear indignation took over. Raising her eyebrows in a sarcastic manner when Richard called the other a boy, she grumbled under her breath,

"Sure, a really, really old boy that looks like a creep."

”He’s our roommate, and I need you to get along with him, ‘cause he knows the best parties and he’s not that bad when you get to know him-- even though he was pretty bad just then.” King glanced at the door with a painful sneer, then straightened up to card a hand through his still-damp hair. Raising her eyebrows once again as if to confirm with Richard on what he had just stated, Alex watched as her friend exhibited signs of repressed anger and stress. Exhaling heavily, she patted his bicep in comfort.

"Well let's leave this jackass to himself for a while," the brunette suggested before squeezing the boy's upper arm. Humming in contentment, Alex turned her eyes upward, looking at Richard through her long lashes in a sultry manner, a small smile slowly curling up her lip. Stepping a bit closer, Alex's chest came very close to his side. "Oh, you feel a bit bigger. You been working out?" she flirted suggestively, attempting to get Richard's mind off of what was stressing him and keeping a relaxed feel around them.

”He is not a jackass, and--” King smirked down at his friend, leading them out towards the nearest stairwell as he looped his arm with her’s, ”I’m just naturally this muscular. Ha! So, how about a stroll through NYC? I have some errands to run, and then maybe we can hang out a bit? Catch up?”

Immediately, Alex pulled back with an offended expression. What was going on? Richard rarely disagreed with her on people they were either fond of or not. But then he was trying to appease her and Alex thought better of getting into it with him. Being angry and fighting was not how she wanted to spend her first day with Richard after not seeing him for three months. Smiling lightly up at her friend, the brunette nodded her head before holding his hand, fingers non-interlocked.

_{Collaboration between lovely complex, reiko, and Liriia}

Smoothing the wrinkles in the blanket arbitrarily Olive looked on as her room mate spoke. They wouldn't mind meeting upperclassmen or even checking out this part of new york. Preparing an answer they opened their mouth, only to be halted with a silent gesture. Not that they minded all that much. After taking out her laptop the other girl soon made it clear why she needed a minuet more to finish her though.

Olive switched over to the other girls bed, sitting next to her without any hint of awkwardness.

The facebook page was open, showing lines of incoming freshmen, who would be the two's classmates. Olive read over Avaleigh's shoulder as she typed out her invitation. Olive had never really been the party type of person, but Ava had already been kind enough to invite them and had already told the rest of the freshmen class they would be there. Not that anyone would know them anyway. Finishing reading the post Olive looked to Ava, who was already looking at them. Not a moment was wasted before she completed her thought from before.

"I have some nice sweaters," Olive answered, hoping that's what Ava meant by classy and fun, "Although I would not mind something to eat. I have not eaten lunch yet. Do you know where you would like to go?"

Olive wouldn't mind shopping either. They had just gotten paid before the weekend and considering their parents and the school pretty much meant no living expenses it could all be used for entertainment.

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Carmina gave a flourishing wave to the room mates that introduced themselves while she danced in place, noting each of their names mentally: Pippa the brunette, Lemon the blonde, and Selassie the curly. Very... interesting names, to say the least, but they wouldn't be hard to remember. So far, they seemed friendly enough. The Latina didn't think she was going to have to slap a bitch yet anyway.

At Pippa's mention of a senior party, Carmina's dark eyes lit up and a wide grin stretched out across her face. "Ooo! Una fiesta?! I used to go to all of the big parties here when I was in high school. Well, up until I moved to North Carolina anyway." she began to rant. "When I was 15, I made out with a 21 year old here! I think his name was Jasper or Jason... or something. He might still go here actually, so I might want to get reacquainted with him." Her words were filled with a mix of excitement and scandalousness as the memories of being a wild, party-hard high schooler flooded her thoughts. "If I remember right, his verga was like... this big." the unashamed Carmina told the room, holding her hands out about 9 inches apart to make it very clear what she was referring to. Perhaps that was too much information to divulge, but she did not seem to care at all what the others thought.

Her motor mouth was still running. "Oh, have you guys ever been to the Dream-Up Festival? It's kind of lame, like... some of those theater people are so fucking weird! I went to one of those productions and they just kept repeating the same shit for 10 minutes." There was a visible expression of disgust that crossed her face at the recollection. "Why don't we go to the mall instead? I want to get a new outfit for this party anyway. Also we can get some pastrami from Katz! Es muy sabroso! Oh! And bubble tea!" An orgasmic moan escaped her lips at the thought of pastrami and bubble tea, and the sharp pain of hunger gripped her, even though she had just eaten not even two hours ago. If there was one thing Carmina could do all the time, anytime, it was eat.

Rubbing her hands together eagerly, she strode over to her closet area and slipped on a pair of teal flip-flops (or at least she thought they were teal, they were actually a deeper shade of blue), not exactly going for anything fancy. Clapping loudly once, her dark orbs leered at her roommates, clearly all ready to leave although her hair was still slightly damp from her shower. "Okay, mujeres bonitas, I think that's the plan! I've lived here since I was 7, so I can show you all around the city, show you what's what, and get you intimate with the culture here. We are going to have so much fun!" the tiny woman exclaimed to her new friends. Pausing briefly, she remembered she hadn't given her name out yet. With a short laugh, she listed off all the names they could call her. "Oh yeah, I'm Carmina. Or Caramel, Carmie, Mi-mi, Mina, la profesora de sonido, Ms. Baltazar, Adora, Addie... You know, whatever you want to call me."

If it wasn't clear to them yet, Carmina was an extremely talkative woman, someone who did not know how to shut up. She was also quite spontaneous, considering she was out the door by the time she finished her last sentence. If they didn't hurry up, the Latina was liable to leave them in the dust and go off on her own adventures. A cheery, whimsical smile was plastered on her face as she started down the hall, dreaming of tonight's big events and the muchachos that awaited her. Oh the college life... How wonderful it would be!

"Oh, sorry. I'm Game Programming and Game Design." Oh, this year was gonna be so fun. Being a recluse during her middle and high school years did make her crave interaction with other people. She did regret being in a smaller room. No where to put her gear. It was all currently shoved in Ollie's apartment until they could find a more permanent location. She turned back at the mention of the Dream Festival. That was something that didn't spark interest in her. To many people and to little space.

Lemon opened one of the drawers in her bed and pulled out her Acer Predator 15 with its 2.6GHz Intel Core i7-6700HQ, Nvidia GeForce GTX 980M, 32GB DDR4, 15.6-inch, 1,920 x 1,080 Active Matrix TFT Color LCD screen, 512GB SSD, 1TB HDD, and Killer Wireless-AC 1535. Some serious tech that only a gamer would recognize. She used it for almost everything. Ever since she took Acer on as a sponsor they gave her sweet deals on laptops. She didn't care if it was heavy and loud. First place she went was her YouTube homepage. "BrutalLemon", as she was called on the site, was nearing 1.5 million subscribers. Her highest viewed video was still of her Undertale special. A compilation of her playing through each boss battle and then her brother attempting each one after her. It was hilarious watching him fail, but it was impressive watching her barely get hit. Toby Fox even commented on the video and said, "Good job. You did better than I did on my first try." She switched over to Twitter and twitted out that the first day was underway and roomies were awesome so far.

Her head jerked up at the sound of a party. She was hoping that Pippa wouldn't ask the others to go, but she did. Lemon had no idea what to say. She didn't want to risk going to a party, but she also didn't want to seem like a loser. When they mentioned going to lunch she thought of a plan. Go eat with the roommates and get to know them. Then before going to the party act like she was feeling sick. Yeah, that would work. Definitely. Putting her precious device in its place she said, "Uhh-Sure. I'd be up for some lunch. Let me grab my jacket." She hopped off her bed to the floor and grabbed her leather jacket throwing it on. She nervously started hoping that when the time came they would buy a sick act.

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Prior to the party, Avaleigh took Olive around town, they ate at a pizza joint, went shopping, and even checked out the Dream Up Fest for an hour.


At a school like Mortimer, there was a large amount of students that had a fair amount of cash, one being Jimmy Harris, a senior Cinematagrapher of Film. With his customized Volkswagen van, he was one of the best DD's any senior class could ask for. Jasper felt fucking lucky to have this man as a friend.

Not being fond of drinking but loving the feeling of carpooling a bunch of drunk people and becoming the "dude" everyone loves, Jimmy is known for his highly sociable nature and quirky personality. More often than not, a great guy to talk to. The van was an early graduation gift. Mr. Harris knew his son loved a good road trip every so often.

Lets just say, Jasper was tight with some of the most impressionable seniors that Mortimer had to offer. Hell, people included Jace in this pool of seniors one must connect with before they graduated because he was extremely reliable, and somehow, by the drunken gods, he networked with many older people with potential job opportunities (that isn't even an understatement).

Summary: The silver haired young woman was quite prepared to get her party on, waiting outside the van with her strapless white top, black leggings, and boots on. Her roommate was sitting in the car waiting for the rest of the freshmen to show up. The party was not only going to have primarily seniors, but it was a rich student hosting it, which meant: dress decent or get kicked out, unless you're on close basis with him. The perks about her group of guests were, it was majorly women so without a doubt the seniors would look passed the couple of guys in the flock of gorgeous babes.

In the Van, Avaleigh had already prepared vodka shots and red bull for each and everyone of her guests. There was a 25 minute car ride. Enough time to have small talk and get buzzed or tipsy before they arrived. No peer pressure at all. After quick introductions, the group of freshmen, with Jimmy behind the wheel, would head off to the lovely Caldwell penthouse, where her brother was waiting for them.

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Have you ever went to a triplex penthouse? An unnecessarily large apartment at the top of a tall building with three floors to it. Yeah, that was Nick Caldwell's father's home away from home. Don't you just love this economy how the wealthy are filthy rich and the poor are broke as shit? No complaining though, the fact that you even got an invite might show you're worth elitist Nick's time.



Entering the lobby, with the flock of first years, the dancer grabbed her phone and dialed her brother's number while her heeled boots resounded in the room, stepping on the smooth marble floor. Before she could get her call in, her brother stumbled out of the elevator, it was obvious Jasper had already started drinking... way ahead of schedule.

"Noey! You're here ah-ha! How's my sis doing?! Oh-_oh!" He turned to two bodyguards and gestured toward the group of people he had no idea were coming, "These kids are with me, you got it?" The atmosphere of the entrance gave off the feeling they were going to a private club that only select few were invited to. The muscle men did not budge or say a word. Ignoring their intimidating nonsense, Jasper approached his baby sister with his nice button up shirt and khaki pants and gave her a warm bear hug.

"I gotta run out real quick. I'll be back in like... ten minutes. Go to the top-top-TOP floor. The place is poppin'! If any one asks, say you're with me. If they ask for like a code word, it's bacon strips." Jay looked over all the kids, not registering any of their faces, as he continued on, "Remember, be cool. Some upperclassmen will test you. Don't let them take advantage of you. Also, if you bump into Nicky don't do anything to piss off his ego. You don't want to see him angry... Alright little ones, go crazy~ _{but not too crazy}."

Strolling to the door, the older man came to a halt and turned back to stare at his sister, his eyes narrowing, "I'll slap a bitch if they make you uncomfortable." With that, the drunken artist made his exit.

Extremely embarrassed but not showing it on her face, Ava hid her mood behind a smile and led her hopefully soon-to-be friends to the elevator, "Let's make our mark."

Entering the elevator, she held the door open and waited patiently for everyone. It was a tight fit, but they'd make it work. Pressing the button to the top floor, she took a deep breath in.

Ready or not, here we come.

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Josie woke quickly, all at once, her head jerking up from it's awkward sideway positions resulting with a groan from the pink-haired young woman who had fallen asleep in one of the apartment's supplied dining table chairs which almost all of them were rarely by the dining table. Josie rolled her neck slowly a couple of times in an attempt to subdue the ache beating on her neck from it's awkward position to no success. The night before Josie had not finished work until the early hours of the morning and, between yawns and heavy eyelids, she came to the, obviously inaccurate, judgement that she was awake enough to work on her latest piece. At one point she had sat down and fell asleep almost instantly.

Throughout the Summer holidays Josie opted out of going away on holiday and stayed in New York to earn some more money and work on her pieces. She was glad the apartment wasn't her alone for if Quincy, or another student, wasn't in the building Josie wouldn't feel obligated to clean up her crap in the shared space's benches and tables. Of course that didn't change the fact her beside table was littered with different size needles, thread and materials. Fabrics of various colours and style lay across her study desk which was usually used for anything but study.

Slowly the pink-haired woman stretched in her seat and gave a yawn before rising from it and making her way to the kitchen to turn on the kettle. "Quinn, I'm making coffée,did you want one?" José called out to her roommate to recieve no reply. It wouldn't surprise José if Quinn had hit the streets the night before and was yet to return home, it wouldn't have been anywhere near ths first times. It explained the scent of cigarette smoke being lighter than usual, gosh, José hated that scent but most probably smelt like it herself. With no reply the young woman continues to make herself a coffee into a travel mug. She'd been cooped up in her room on her fashion pieces or working the last few days and decided it may be about time to see what New York had to offer. She ran a hand through her messy pink hair in attempts to flattened it, yet making in it worse, so with a sip of coffee she started detangling it with her slender fingers of her left hands then exited the apartment, careful to ensire the door stayed locked, and exited the building



It was well into the night yet Josie was wandering the streets of New York. She had only finished work less then an hour ago and decided to get back to wandering the hustle and bustle of the streets they never slept instead of locking herself among her sewing tools and materials.

She was passing a large building. Distant music could be heard, there was obviously a party going on. Josie wouldn't have given it a second thought had her friend not emerged from the building but he had.

"Hey there Jasper!" Josie greets him, pushing back some loose strands of pink hair before looking him in the eyes "Are you drunk?"

Jen had spent a good hour or two walking around New York, occasionally pointing a first year in the right direction, or answering a question about the Institute. Eventually, she had headed back home to get ready. She'd had a shower, applied a little make up, and made sure her hair was still good. She'd chosen a nice set of party clothes, something that would allow her to be comfortable, yet still accentuated her body.



She'd not been able to wait, too excited for the party, and had sent Malcom a quick text to explain that she was going early. She'd made her way towards Nicky's apartment, arriving about 15 minutes early. She'd been let in, being on good terms with the boy (They had shared a few nights together last year). She quickly set about making a few drinks for herself, having taken a few shots of vodka, drunk some beers, and sipped some fine wine by the time the party had started. She was a little tipsy by this point, having taken a seat on one of the many large sofas, currently flirting with one of the third years that she may or not have had an encounter with in Art Department bathrooms. They were chatting along quite well, reminiscing about various parties and events they had both attended. They were laughing about some night from last year, something involving a toilet brush, when Avaleigh and her group walked in.

"Jimmy!" She shouted over the rabble, raising her glass to the man.
Now there was a great guy. She could still remember a few of the times that he had driven her home last year, even though all she had been at that point was a naive freshman. Jen's eyes widened a little when she saw the group that the man had brought with him, quickly walking over with a smile on her face.
"You brought some first years!" She said excitedly, making sure to give Jimmy a quick hug, "I didn't think that any of them would know about this party."

"Damn Josie! Every time I see you, I'm like... your hair be burnin' up like neon lights! You'll be like a flamingo in a flock of pigeons up there. Well, minus my sis, she's a damn dove." Jasper nodded in acknowledgement of his sister's beauty. If Ava wanted to, she could totally be a model and he wasn't just thinking that because he was her brother. Not many girls were as lucky as his sister to be given the looks she was blessed with. Granted, she was the type of person to take care of her skin and maintain her weight. Maybe, she cared about her appearance a bit too much? She wasn't vain, don't get him wrong, but some people just put too much care to stay healthy. Look at him! He had a belly and he's totally okay with it. Regardless, her life was dedicated to dancing so modeling was not on the agenda unless it was for advertising her dance events and shit. The awe for his sister was short lived when he came to the daunting realization of a predicament that could occur tonight. His thoughts trailed into the darker section of his mind as he thought about hungry wolves staring at her and wanting to devour his precious sister's innocence. College boys and possibly college females. His sister was open minded, who knows who would chase after her!? He was more concerned of the boys though... dangerous men. He would know, he was (is) one of them.

"OH NO." he said out loud to himself.

Narrowing his eyes, due to the sudden thought of predators grinding up all over his sister while he was on his errand, Jasper grimaced.

Leaning in by Josie's ear, the drunkard whispered, "Keep an eye on my sis. She's got silver hair, a white top, and black leggings. She's like a guy magnet. I DON'T TRUST GUYS." Unintentionally, he raised his voice while he was quite close to her.

Stumbling back, he finally registered her question on whether or not he was drunk. PFFT. What a simple question, but then again, Josie didn't see him everyday so she had no idea he was an alcoholic. Having no clue that Josephine had little to no knowledge of the party, the man's warm brown eyes gazed upon her face with intrigue, not recalling a party where he and her had time to jam together, or even get drunk together.

Bobbing his head like a fool with random club music playing in his head, he gave a cheesy grin, "Aw Jojo, don't tell me you came to Nicky's shindig sober?! Well, that's alright, there's plenty of refreshments when you--"

"Oh shit, is that you, Josie? Small city, isn't it?" An androgynous woman with a suit on, strolled on up and nonchalantly invited herself to Nick's party. Contemplating her appearance as she talked, Jay tilted his head as she flicked her cigarette to the ground. For someone who knew a lot of people, he surprisingly didn't know this woman. That probably would change tonight-- maybe. Shit was packed up there. His expression stood straight for a good, long moment, as he took her in, deciding what to even think. At least, she was nothing like his supposedly new roommate: Alex. What a bitch. No one would be as bad as her. He shuttered at the thought of King even knowing such a foul beast. Without a doubt, his bro was going to bring her tonight. Sighing to himself, Jasper would have to be the better person and not start trouble. BUT, if the bitch starts something first, he might not be able to hold his tongue--especially with how much he plans to drink.

"Nah, it's my bud's party. Nick Caldwell, heard of him? Major face at Mort... EITHER WAY. Any friend of Josie's is a friend of mine. The name's Jasper, Jasper Dawson." Offering his hand, he waited for a handshake, or a fist bump, or whatever kids did these days. His hand was open for whatever.

"Ya'll go rock your socks off and if anyone questions you, just mention me." Checking the time, Jasper knew he needed to hurry up to get Nicky's "pick up". Every big party Nick threw, he always sent Jay to get him this odd, specialized pizza. He never questioned it nor looked inside the box, but what the simple man did not know was that... he was carrying drugs for the party in a box. You'd think he'd realize with how light the box was that something was up, right? NOPE. NOT JASPER.

---

---

Alex and Richard ended up spending the rest of the day going around the city and catching up while walking everywhere. It was a much needed refreshment for the both of them after not seeing each other for so long. It was mainly Richard who was guiding his friend everywhere seeing as he had more experience with the bustling hub than Alex. Despite having lived in New York during her freshmen year, the girl didn’t get much of a chance to explore with the lack of a car and living on campus. The only time she ever left the grounds was when there was an important party that she was invited to and she would have to take a cab. After finishing the errands Richard needed to get done, the blonde took his friend to a restaurant he knew around their apartment for a late lunch, simply chatting the time away. Remembering his plans for the night, he invited Alex to a party he was going to later and left with her once she ecstatically agreed and suggested they head back to the apartment to start getting ready.

When they returned, Jasper wasn’t around which Alex momentarily thought about before seeing her bags that Richard had left by the door when they had quickly left the apartment. Deciding to at least put her clothes up (it would also help her in looking for an outfit to wear out to the party), she spent some time on doing that before getting ready. As soon as the two were done, they left to start walking to where the party was going to be held. They didn’t need to take anything since it was already in the nicer part of New York which was where they lived. While on their way there, King explained to Alex just exactly who Nick Caldwell was and why this party was going to be one of the hottest this year.

Once they arrived, they had to check in with the bouncer who only had Richard’s name on the list. Thankfully Alex looked and acted like she belonged with the crowd that was already in and they were eventually allowed to go in together.

Was King party ready? Probably. He felt hot, dressed down in an open flannel and jeans with his hair gently tousled and his lips tasting of cigarette smoke and coffee. A pretty girl on one arm and his name on the list only enhanced his confidence, allowing his general dazzling, mocking grin to stand out heavily against the rest of the crowd. The elevator ride up to the penthouse was stuffy and pull of loud chatting that King ignored in favor of staring at himself in the reflective interior.

By the time the doors were opened King swore they had to be in space or something.

“God, this is like, what-- the fiftieth floor? I bet I could touch the moon or something.” King dragged Alex out of the way of the incoming swarm of glossy lips and big hair and pre-gaming assholes, “Looks like we’re here though. Welcome to the first big party of the year, ready to get shitfaced?” He arched down suddenly, grinning merrily into his friend’s face as he dragged her easily towards the closest watering hole.

The shorter brunette beside him scoffed and smirked at her friend's antics. While he had advocated to drink prior to arriving to the party, Alex had dedicated the last few minutes to not getting buzzed on beer and finishing up her makeup. "Richard, you're not even that drunk yet. And you know I love our drinking games," she teased as he lead the two of them to the bar. After downing a few shots, the girl couldn't respond to anything her friend was saying about whoever besides giggling. Another one down and Alex wasn't tuned to anything around her aside from the music, a few of the bright lights, and her tall friend. Taking Richard's hand, she yelled to him in a vain attempt over the pounding sounds resonating around to the room to notify them that they were going dancing. Bringing them over to a section of the dance floor, green eyes looked up to give the other an exhilarated look before Alex began to let her body move the way it wanted naturally and carelessly.

King followed after Alex after only three shots because he had gotten so into some odd conversation about one of the teachers at uni. The sudden shift from sitting to dancing took him by surprise, and Alex’s quick drinking and quicker turn to the dance floor was everything including adorable to King as he tried his best to keep up. His two left feet trailed hopelessly after his friend in slight beat to the music.

“God, Alex, how can you do this so well!” He shouted above the bass and crowd, reaching out to grab her wrist and pull himself closer to her. King laughed as hands and bodies dragged against him, shoving them off with a few playful glares behind him. “I hate dance floors, Allycat! Can we shove off elsewhere?” Despite saying that, however, he still rocked his shoulders fluidly and slid across open spaces as gracefully as he could manage. His smile light, one of pure enjoyment and pre-drunkness.

Above the dancing heads, though he saw salvation on the side of the room where many open seats and tables were splayed, and among them was a familiar face. King blinked, then glanced down at Alex and another bright smile pressed against his lips. He hooked his arm over her’s again, leading them from the dance floor and towards the familiar face that was Ava Dawson.

“C’mere Allycat! I think you need to mingle more and grind less tonight-- there’s quite a few interesting people in this crowd!”

A lot of Alex's dancing seemed to be made up of some form of hopping and moving her head from side to side tonight. Not sure how long she had been on the floor but feeling like it was the best time of her life in that moment, it took her an extra minute to register that Richard was trying to tell her something. "What?!" she called back, unable to decipher his words over the booming sound and foggy mind. However, this time, instead of trying to be louder than the music, Richard lightly pulled his friend over to a sitting area with nice furniture. Initially stumbling, Alex drunkenly laughed and gripped the other's arm for support. Thankfully, the man was strong enough to not trip over the sudden extra weight. Once they managed to steer their way to the chairs, the blonde gently sat Alex in a seat and she simply beamed up at him as she softly swayed.

“Here, just. Say hi to Ava. I’m gonna go catch up with some folks.” King gave her a gentle pat on the head, stalling her sway with a brace of the wrist, “Meet up by the elevator when the party starts winding down, okay?” He yelled the rest of his words loudly over the music and, after giving a brief, confident nod to to the sister of his roommate he faded away into the party, humming merrily.

“Okay!” the distracted brunette chirped at her friend’s informing of where he was going. Looking around at the lights, Alex only refocused on the person in front of her when she registered he was making sure to be heard. Focus… her hazy mind tried to communicate to her. Staring at Richard blankly for a moment, she widened her eyes innocently and pouted her lips before nodding. Watching distantly as her friend disappeared in the swarming crowd, Alex tapped her fingers on her bare thighs and continued on swaying. Then a thought hit her and she furrowed her eyebrows before cocking her head and asking no one in particular, “Who’s Ava?”

King had broken away from the others long ago, for drinks and gossip. Crowds upon crowds of girls and boys alike welcomed him into their small circles, chatting loudly above the pumping bass about teacher scandals and slutty coworkers and addicted classmates. King listened to each comment with a cocky smile and a sip of beer, going through the motions he usually did: furrow your brow at certain names, smile and flirt at a sensual stare, lean back and laugh at a nicely timed joke. Party talk, party talk, party talk. By the time King was on his fifth group his fourth bottle of beer was empty and his eyes bleared when he glared across the room for people worth talking to.

And then he saw him, the pretty boy hiding against a wall. Seen only by the flicking lights above and looking hopelessly alone, though King assumed he was anything but.

Needless to say, the sight alone was enough for King to bid adieu to the shouting group around him and stalk over, pretending to know what he was doing and failing slightly because a drunk King was an impulsive and clumsy King. It took a second longer to reach the familiar-looking-stranger, because he stopped for a refill and to share some kind words to some nice looking legs, but then he too was growing further from the lights and groping hands.

Once he was in earshot, King said, “You’re looking pretty lonely over here, dude.” A cocky smile appeared as he took a sudden sip from his bottle, “Need some company?”

“Depends on the kind up for grabs,” Malcolm Okada replied, eyes glancing over from the large windows to the figure intruding on his solitude (if it could even be called that). Blonde hair, tall, pretty to look at and dangerous, if he was to stare for a long period of time. He leaned back, shoulders pressed heavily against the wall, and rubbed at the back of his neck.

And sipped on his own drink, of course, in a way that hopefully made it seem like he wasn’t going to down it without a moment’s notice as he usually did. King did the same again, smile only growing in brilliance. He moved forward slowly, hesitantly, and then pressed his back against the wall besides Malcolm. His voice was a low purr this time, flirty and soothing,

“Hope you don’t mind me hanging around, then.” His head tilted back, pressing high against the wall as he knocked back the rest of his drink and stifled a sigh. “The name’s Richard, by the way. Richard King. But you can call me whatever you want.” His eyes fell away from the New York lights to stare at the man beside him, and instantly they filled with some odd hunger he couldn’t quite hide.

“I don’t–no, I don’t mind.” A contemplative hum concealed what was almost a stutter until a wicked grin quirked at the corner of Mal’s usually-stoic lips. “Are you sure you wanna leave that offer open, sport?” He hooked a thumb around his suspenders, and raised an eyebrow at King. “It’s Malcolm.”

King stifled a snort, turning to lean on his shoulder because for some reason this ‘Malcolm’ was endlessly fascinating under the dim lights and screaming music. “Malcolm? Yeah, sure. I adore stupid nicknames like that.” His grin widened, revealing his jest at the otherwise mean-spirit comment, and he leaned in closer to get a good look at Mal’s own sly smirk. King stared a moment longer than he should have, however, and eventually turned back to eye the party beyond their little moment.

It all suddenly felt so much less interesting, compared to the lean man beside him at least. King turned his attention back to Malcolm and hummed, eyebrows furrowing with curiosity. “So, Malcolm, what brings you to what people are calling ‘the hottest party of the year’?”

“Tagged along to watch people get drunk and make fools out of themselves. See also: getting drunk myself,” Mal said, turning his body ever so slightly in King’s direction. One of the long strands of hair that fell down to frame his forehead was quickly wrapped around the finger of his free-hand. “Also, because you can’t call it the hottest party of the year without me here. Obviously.”

He rolled his eyes, and drank some more before he could make a further fool of himself. “How ‘bout you?”

King took another long sip, eyebrows hitching humorously at Mal’s comment. He tried not to make a sexual advance at the given chance, instead he pressed back against the wall and chuckled darkly at the next question. “I guess I came because I was supposed to. As an art school student, it is my duty to attend every single penthouse party available to me, no matter the crowd or consequences!” He gave a dynamic pose, as if his words held more of a heroic meaning than they actually did. And then King settled back against wall again and sighed, smile softening somewhat as he confessed, “Also I thought a party would be a good thing to kill the pre-class jitters I had for some reason. Ya know, take my mind off of useless stuff.”

King’s classes were obviously the least of his worries, though a complete stranger shouldn’t be able to tell that from his confident shoulders and arched brow. His mind turned briefly to his home life and all the drama happening there. To his sister who was hopefully out of that house now. To the mail that probably held a few court callings, if that was how they wishes to operate after everything was discovered. His eyes drifted back to Malcolm, narrowed to glittering slits in the dimness of the party.

“Wanna help? You look like you could be a very pretty distraction.”

Malcolm’s fingers brushed against King’s shoulder, and he narrowed his eyes to focus through the slight haze that had descended over his lightweight of a mind. He met King’s gaze and kept it, tilting his chin up before a wicked smirk crossed his face. “I don’t sleep around – not for one or two cunning lines. Sorry, buddy.”

Pearly white teeth flashed into an open smile for only a moment. “Maybe at the next party.”

King shrugged, keeping Malcolm’s gaze with his cockiest expression yet, “It was worth a shot, hmm?” He knocked back the rest of his drink quickly, feeling only slightly sour at being turned down. He could have been a lot worse, a lot more persistent, but at the same time his mind felt slowed with alcohol and his eyes were drawn to Mal’s face rather than his… Other features.

No use trying to get laid if he wasn’t in the mood himself, yeah?

“Never mind that-- what’re you in for? I’m assuming you’re another Mortimer student, and if I’m assuming right I would love to know your major.” King pressed his shoulder against the wall, holding his empty bottle between himself and the pretty stranger as he let another smile meet his lips.

“Guess.”

“Eh-- ah,” King pursed his lips, leaning his head back in thought. And then he focused in on Malcolm again. He looked at him, staring up and down not in a sensual sense anymore but instead a thoughtful one. King liked to think, as an liberal arts student, he was a pro at telling other liberal arts students apart. And the kid in front of him, well, he had the hands of a musician.

“You in the music program? Maybe?” King froze for a moment, head lowering as he tapped a finger to his chin, “I haven’t seen you around so probably not actually. Uh--” He pressed his free hand to Mal’s shoulder, squeezing, feeling the muscle, and then he stepped back with the snap of a finger, “You’re a theater major!”

“I really look like the type to be up there singing Summer Lovin’, don’t I?” Mal said with an easy grin to counteract his usual, bitterly cold sarcasm. “But, no. Not even close, sport, but good try. Hell, I might guess myself to be a theatre major–wait, no, what am I saying? I should stop, I’m a menace to my own social image.”

Mal chuckled quietly. “I’m more the Dirty Dancing-type.”

“You look like you could play a mean Danny Zuko, though.” King said with a goofy look on his face, feeling a bit lighthearted at the fact that his current person-of-interest easily dropped a reference to one of his favorite movies, “Dirty Dancing? Oh, oh you’re a dance major. That was my second guess.” He leaned forward again, tapping his foot to the beat of some echoey, bass-ridden song that had began pumping through the many many speakers laying around the penthouse.

King glanced down at his empty bottle, and then leaned it forward to clink against Mal’s. His eyes twisted towards the nearest source of alcohol, and then the surprisingly empty couch in the corner, pressed against the very windows both had found themselves staring out of. “Wanna load up and roll out? I’m pretty sure standing here all night is gonna wear at least one of us down.” Oh, King barely realized he had planned to stick close to the stranger for the rest of the night, but then again the rest of the party didn’t seem as intense as this man’s wicked smile.

“I’ll grade you based on effort,” Mal agreed cheekily. His fingers brushed down King’s arm, past the sleeves on his shirt and down to his wrist as he leaned in to whisper, “I’m a ballet dancer, by the way.” And with that, and without relinquishing his faint grip on the other man, he led them through the sparse crowds on their side of the room to the couch.

Mal twisted around so that even though he was in the middle of it, he was exclusively facing King, because really, his inhibitions were low enough now for his icy front to melt and his desperate self to shine through.

King followed after him after grabbing another beer and shooting an acquaintance an excited smile. Even if he had done something like this a thousand times, talked to someone, flirted with someone, advanced on someone, for some reason he still felt like a serious rookie. His face was warm, either from intoxication or an affliction most would call lust, and his heart thudded painfully as he collapsed next to Malcolm and slung his free arm over the back of the couch.

Cool glass met his nude wrist, and he sighed slightly as it seemed to cool some part of his, enough for him to speak confidently, “Ballet, huh? Shit-- I’ve seen some shows with my mom before. It’s er, pretty amazing.” He turned towards Mal and shrugged, “Those leaps and shit can’t be real, it’s like all those dancers were floating or something. Must take some hard core training, hmm?” King rambled a bit, slurring words already as he knocked back his sixth bottle with three hurried sips.

What else could he do, really? He was thirsty dammit.

“You’re secretly wanting to know if I do all those crazy, bend-over-backwards stretches, yeah?” Mal said, and he leaned in to the back of the couch, either ignoring or indifferent to the fact that King’s arm was outstretched behind him, and that his hand curled in just past his shoulder.

He laughed again. Stop laughing, he told himself.

“Well, yeah–I’m glad I picked ballet rather than, like, saxophone. Gotta keep flexible, you know?”

King nodded, lips still pressed to his empty bottle as if the disguise the fact that he was growing red and slurry. Eventually, he leaned back further into the couch and cocked his head, “Flexible, hmm?” A devious smile lit his face, which had become shadowed and haggard from the spinning lights in the center of the room, “Do all those stretches help you out in the bedroom at all?” He switched his bottle to his empty hand, pressing it against the back of the couch and stifling a snort as he eyed Mal’s face.

Mal pressed his lips to the rim of his own bottle, smiling enigmatically. “Isn’t that a personal question?”

“Probably, but I’m just drunk enough to not care what’s personal and what’s not.” King’s eyebrows rose humorously, though he felt a bit high strung. A bit left out of the loop, despite there being only himself and Malcolm in it. That odd smile of his was especially annoying, so much so that King couldn’t help but focus in on it with bleary eyes.

And then he turned back to the party. The dance floor, filled with the competent people who actually knew how to dance. His mind turned to dancing, ballet, hip hop, and then rounded all the way around to music. Jazz. Offhandedly, King said, “So, do you do anything other than ballet? You mentioned sax… Did you used to play or something?”

“Just in high school,” Mal answered – and he couldn’t help but falter, perhaps showing his inexperience with this whole game of flirting and playing hard to get (intentional or not), as he tried to work out how to continue the conversation.

“So what about you, hot-shot? What’s your special talent? Other than making boys like me blush, that is.”

“Ah-- Music. Guitar-playing, uh, jazz. I’m studying to be a jazz guitarist.” King smiled suddenly, feeling a bit freer at being able to share his major with someone new, “I’ve got those fancy fingers, ya feel?” He leaned towards Mal and shifted his weight around, strumming on an air guitar in a nonsensical fashion while laughing high above the speakers again. And when his hands fell down to his lap again he gave no effort to move away, instead pressing comfortable into Mal’s shoulder as he bent his head back and smirked.

“Other talents include singing, juggling, and drinking myself silly. The ‘making boys blush’ talent is sort of an extension, gotta pay extra to see it action~.” He stopped himself, eyes falling in thought, and then purred, “But -- as you can already see -- it’s free for people as pretty as you.”

Dryly, Mal replied, “I knew there were perks to looking this good.” His dark gaze slipped away skittishly towards the dance floor he had no interest in, for once (because the music was beyond trashy) before returning to fix upon King’s collarbone. “But–yeah, guitar. Wow, uh. Callouses–yeah, I can dig that.”

He shot a desperate, wounded glance for King to continue speaking so that he could proceed to take his foot out of his mouth. King returned it with another brilliant smile and leaned further against Mal’s shoulder, trying to ignore the heat they shared as his thigh pressed against the other boy’s.

“Callouses are hot? I don't think I've heard anyway say that before.” He lifted his hand for inspection, observing the hardened finger tips and crackled skin. King offered the sight to Malcolm, holding out his palm almost innocently, “Are they as sexy as you envisioned?”

“D–Depends how they feel.”

King leaned forward and chuckled, darkly. His hand fell away, trailing over Malcolm’s side to slip up under his shirt. His fingertips pressed against the other’s lower back, sensual and shaky with drunkenness and unfiltered attraction. King pressed forward even further until he was certain Mal was only able to look at him, keep his bleary gaze, and his laugh came out smaller this time. Why does my heart hurt?

…

probaby the alcohol

“Well,” he began, cocking his head, “How do they feel?”

Mal wasn’t drunk enough.

“Aren’t you forward?” he asked coyly.

Or maybe he was.

“I’m–uh, reconsidering my stance on drunken hookups,” he stuttered out, because it wasn’t fair to have a hand just sitting there, doing nothing but being an absolute reminder that the guitarist–jazz guitarist–was hot as hell and cocky to boot. “There’s your answer.” There was very little blood in his brain right now, Mal was sure, as he licked his lower lip.

“No hookups, though.” The reaffirmation was clear, because Jenn would probably laugh at him and he’d regret it in the morning beyond all doubt. “Though, we could always make out–?” Mal cursed his grin for being so… eager.

“Make out? Make out, yeah– yeah! Let's make out.” King grinned wildly, brilliantly, and leaned even closer. His brain was vibrant with excitement, edged on by alcohol and lust and complete appreciation for the beautiful face before him. Foreheads met, blonde hair on black, and King’s smile weakened to a gentle smirk, and he tilted his head forward. Lips brushed against lips.

Kiss him.

King stalled and stared, eyes wide and red with sleeplessness and party high, and though he could very easily break his own motto and kiss this boy without so much as a word of warning he didn't. Instead, he growled, “May I?”

Mal kissed him instead, one hand slipping up to King’s jaw to hold him in place for the six, seven seconds of steam that was a brief (almost, almost shy) before he backed off ever so slightly – far enough away from skin-to-skin contact but with faces close enough for their breath to mingle in the ultraviolet air. “Stole it.”

King’s hand was still on his back. And it would remain as King pressed Malcolm against his chest and dragged his lips against the other boy’s. The first kiss had been gentle and a bit held back, given to him by someone who definitely didn't want a lay, but the next kiss was designed to change that mindset. He straightened his back and locked his mouth against Malcolm’s, tongue loose and dragging across the boy’s lower lip. King’s free hand rose to card through Malcolm’s hair, gentle and clammy with an unneeded anxiety, and he kissed and kissed until he was breathless and panting against Malcolm’s lips.

Even then he didn't break away, however. Something wanted him to stay close to this boy, share the same heat as him, and if a drunken make out in the corner of some party would award him with what he desired then dammit he's going to ride the whole thing out.

"Damn Josie! Every time I see you, I'm like... your hair be burnin' up like neon lights! You'll be like a flamingo in a flock of pigeons up there. Well, minus my sis, she's a damn dove." Josie looked her friend up and down. Was he drunk? It seemed it. Not that Josie wasn't completely oblivious to drunkness, she had seen her friend drunk a couple of times and her room mate didn't always come home sober, when she did come home that is. She didn't know him well enough to had met his sister, however, Jasper talked about her often enough it could be certain Josie knew of her existence.

"Well I suppose she must be as beautiful as you say," Josie replies, giving him a large smile yet he seemed to not noticed her speak. All was quiet in a silence that Josie felt was nothing but awkward between them, however, the drunkard seemed to deep in his thoughts he probably didn't notice, or remember in the state he was in, the tiny pink-haired adult standing in the one spot. Unable to stay still Josie gently drums on the sides of her thighs with her fingers while she waits for her drunken friend to get over his train of thought or notice she was still there.

"OH NO." he yells suddenly, his words piercing the New York air seemingly the only thing said in the busy streets. Josie was just about to ask Jasper if he wanted her to call him a taxi or something of the likes but before she could say anything the drunkard swung toward her and, leaning her direction whilist keeping quite a fair height advantage against her he muttered in her ear. She could smell the alcohol on his breath now, the strong scent coating his every word.

As he raised his voice if her ear Josie stumbled back probably almost as much as he had, however she regained her poise before he. When Jasper regained more control over his actions however he gazed at Josie, his warm brown eyes seeming to show intrigue. Josie cocked her head ever-so-slightly, curious as to what was running through the drunkard's mind at the moment. Soon enough a cheesy grin took over his face as he bopped his head, not that the atmosphere around the presented anything for him to bop his head to. Josie was almost fearing Jasper would start dancing right there right then when he finally broke the reformed silence between them. "Aw Jojo, don't tell me you came to Nicky's shindig sober?! Well, that's alright, there's plenty of refreshments when you--" this would have been the point Josie cut him off herself had the coarse voice of her room mate not beat her to it, much to Josie's relief. She had seen Jasper drunk on more than one occasion but not enough for her to know exactly how to approach speaking to drunk Jasper. She wasn't one someone would invite to a wild party. Fun? She liked to think so but she wasn't a big fan of alcohol and could never bring herself to drink enough to get herself even tipsy let alone wasted. She was the type to party hard sober and that seemed to irk people, particularly drunk people.

"Oh shit, is that you, Josie? Small city, isn't it?" Quinn greeted her, giving her a sideward hug in the process which Josie returned with the attempt to ignore the smoke curling from the cigarette in her room mate's hand. The scent of tabacco never faired well for Josie for some reason, luckily Quinn was respectful of that and often attempted to clear the house of the scent of her cigarettes as much as possible and although a scent of it always lingered in the air of the small apartment Josie was thankful for Quinn's efforts. If she wanted to smoke Josie wasn't going to stop her. As a room mate Josie was glad she's ended up with Quinn, she admired her ability to always speak her mind and opinions, besides her tattoos were pretty cool- even if Josie was yet to hear the stories behind half of them.

After practically inviting herself to the party Quinn released Josie of her grip and flicked her cigarette to the side before then passing her offer to Josie who bit her lip. Any good party crasher needs a co-crasher. Josie couldn't help but chuckle slightly.
"I'm not the best of company at a party," Josie states, quite clearly, not at all intimidated by her friends' height, and age, advantage. Why should she be? "I'm more than happy to be you co-crasher but neither of you better expect me to get drunk or whatever other illegal or stupid things you party animals get yourselves into!"

Previous to the party Ava had and Olive had a great time perusing new york, shopping, and hanging around the dream festival. It was a lovely day and a great start to the school semester. Olive really felt like this school would be a good fit for them and all looked bright. Though they were nervous for the party in the larger scale it seemed like a good opportunity to make friends with freshman and upperclassmen alike. "worst comes to worst" they thought "we'll have to leave. That isn't so bad.".

By the time the other frehsman showed up the pair were already dressed for the party and waiting. Olive had on a dress that they'd just purchased earlier.

---

---

The party room was alive with music and dancing figures. It was clearly a party meant for older people.
As the other freshman drifted off Olive stayed by Jimmy. She would've stayed with their roommate but the girl had disappeared off into the crowd. Not knowing anyone else it seemed smarter to just stick close to their ride home.

Not long after they arrived a teal hair person approached Jimmy, a wide smile across her face. Awkwardly Olive waited to the side while the Girl hugged him until she heard the distinct dialect of an honest English accent. Most people in Europe were travelers, at least that's what Olive figured. They had plenty of fond memories of family trips all over the country.

Grinning Olive gave a small excited wave at the teal hair person. "Hi" they chirped, "This sure is a big party."

"Hey!" Jen said, smiling at the person, "My name's Jennifer Flint, but you can call me Jen."
She stuck her hand out to shake, still trying to act polite despite her slightly tipsy state.
"What's your name? Are you a first year? Are you from New York? Or from somewhere else?" She asked rapidly, before taking a deep breath, blushing a little when she realised how fast she had been talking.
She coughed a little and looked away, slightly embarassed.
"Sorry, I get a little excited around new people. I'll try and tone it down a little," She said, laughing a little at her own blunder, "Still, I would like to know who you are, despite my terrible first impression."
She took a swig from the bottle in her hand, chugging back a quarter of the blue liquid. She stared at the back, staring at the numbers.
'Only 10%? At this rate, I'm going to be sober the whole night,' She thought to herself.
She would have to find some stronger stuff soon. Maybe Nicky had some vodka hidden somewhere.

Jen blinked when the girl commented on the size of the party. She looked around, getting a quick estimate of how many people were in the house.
"I mean, sort of? I'm probably not the best judge of this. It's a big party for your first one. But I've been to bigger. Definitely bigger than most of the ones I had at home. Except for the party after the school ball. That thing was huge," She said, grinning a little at the memories of that particular booze fest.
She took another drink, nearly finishing the bottle. She stared at it disappointingly, before finishing it off. She stared over at the kitchen longingly, wanting to get something else to sate her thirst. She turned back to Olive.
"Hey, ever drunk vodka?" She asked, a mischievous grin on her face, the sort of smile that promised trouble and lots of fun.
Jen mind was now set on making this first year's night the best of her life.

---

---

Although Avaleigh was enjoying herself, she did think this shindig would be more worth the experience if she had a close-knit girlfriend to dance with and lure all the eye candy toward them. The party was a madhouse, even for a high class one. There was still the college vibe with stupidity and sexual tension – the main difference between a house party and this overpriced one was rather than using plastic cups, they used actual glasses (damn, rich people) and the chances of running out of hors d’oeuvre was unlikely. The silver haired girl’s baby blue orbs scanned the mass of people wondering when her brother would return. She knew if he were here, he would be eyeing her like a hawk, but at the same time… he was the closest person to her in New York-- the one she felt most secure around. Oddly enough, Ava felt like she would be more inclined to get shitfaced with her brother’s presence. After all, he was quite the functional drunk. Loud and ridiculous at times, but functional.

There was a brief moment when the host, Nick Caldwell, did acknowledge her. At the time, she was waiting at the bar for a drink (thank god they didn’t check IDs). He had walked up to her and introduced himself handsomely cool-like, as if he was the top dog of the world, slipping in a compliment or two. Without a doubt, one of the most popular seniors at Mortimer was flirting with her. When she introduced herself, his expression swiftly changed to bewilderment, but also had a hint of amusement, as if what he was staring at was a mirage of his mind. The top tier host told her he couldn’t believe Ava and Jasper were related, explaining how there was an obvious hierarchy in each year and that she would most definitely make it to the top one day, while her brother simply floated around the ladder. He didn’t want to seem like he hated her brother. No, not at all. Jasper was one of the most reliable and caring seniors Nick could have ever been acquainted with and if anyone were to fuck with Jay, he’d personally deal with them himself. At Mortimer, some people had “star quality” in them. Those were the ones that everyone noticed. Jasper was a graphic novel artist, who used a pseudonym, deliberately avoiding fame at all cost. Plus, Nick explained how her brother didn’t think his looks would get him places. Ava, on the other hand, had the look, the attitude, and from what her brother has told him, definitely the talent too. His expression was distant but for an asshole, he sounded like he actually cared about her brother more than he would like to admit. There was a moment of silence. She couldn’t read what was on Nick’s mind while he took a long drag of his cigarette and observed her with his tired yet intrigued stare. At least he liked her, right? Within time, the host dismissed himself to welcome other people entering his domain, leaving his smoke behind. When he left, Ava immediately escaped the area where the smell of fumes lingered. She hated how much it made clothes stink.

Having not danced yet, the young woman sauntered in the room, wondering if she could find someone in the crowd worth giving her time to. Instead of entering the mess of sweaty college kids, she decided to sit on a sofa with her margarita in hand, keeping to herself. Don’t get her wrong, Ava was a social butterfly when she wanted to be, it was just… no one interested her. As she quietly sat, her gaze caught sight of her brother’s roommate making his way towards her with a fairly attractive brunette, who seemed to be enjoying herself. Smiling up at Richard, Ava gave him a playful wave and watched him run off to enjoy himself. The woman before her seemed quite excitable and confused. Mostly, confused.

“Who’s Ava?”

The world was moving slightly, but not enough for Ava to lose focus, her tolerance for alcohol being relatively decent compared to other kids her age. Grasping her drink with her left hand, she stood up and went beside the brunette. Giving the other beautiful woman a welcoming smile, Ava answered her question, “That would be me!” She spoke loud enough so her voice could be heard over the music, “I’m Avaleigh, it’s nice to meet you.” Her voice was like fine red wine or delicate velvet, even with the loud bass overpowering their conversation. She nodded to the woman, not one for handshakes the first time she met someone, “Looks like you’re having fun! I would too, if the selection were better. Maybe I just have high standards.” The thin dancer frustratingly stared at the crowd as she gave the brunette a glimpse of her agenda.

The oblivious brunette was startled when she heard a new voice actually answer her rhetorical question. Turning her head to the source a bit too quickly, Alex's vision swarmed for a moment as she blinked hard a few times to regain her senses. When she opened her eyes once more, she was met with a beautiful, silver-haired girl. Tilting her head to the side slower this time, the girl sitting was verbally non responsive to Ava's introduction and opinions. Now if the fashionista was sober, the other girl in front of her would have rubbed her the wrong way. Alex would have read her words as condescending since she wouldn't believe that Ava really cared whether she was having a fun time or not. And what was "if the selection was better" and "maybe I just have high standards" supposed to mean? Alex was here; did that mean she wasn't good enough to be within the girl's presence?

But the brunette wasn't and the only response she gave was a giggle and smile. "Aw, I'm pretty sure it's not that bad." As if just noticing a serving platter with a finger food she didn't recognize beside her, Alex picked one of the small appetizers up. "There's food!" she chirped enthusiastically as if trying to convince the stranger that this function wasn't so lame. "That's always a good thing," the buzzed girl stated confidently as she distractedly gazed off at the lights before taking a bite of whatever was in her hand.

Alex must not have been drunk enough because she could taste how absolutely vile whatever fancy food she had just ate was. Practically hacking up the morsel, a small hand come up to the girl's lips to cover her mouth. After she forced herself to swallow the remaining bite that hadn't escaped, Alex placed the rest back onto the tray with a grimace. "Okay, well, I need a drink now. Did you want to come with me to the bar?"

Giving the other woman an inquisitive stare, Avaleigh carefully watched her, from the brunette’s expressions to the little actions she did while tipsy. Although Ava’s eyes were a soft baby blue, the way she kept her gaze on the other woman was rather intimidating, in a piercing dagger kind of way. This was simply out of habit and not meant to give off the idea that the dancer was judging her. The unfortunate circumstances of having a resting bitch face, you know? Ava would be lying if she didn’t find the woman to be absolutely fucking adorable, but alas, the freshman wasn’t one to show much kindness in her expression often. The brunette didn’t say her name yet, probably too happy to be at the party (and completely forgetting), when suddenly she reacted quite exuberantly to the taste of a wealthy appetizer. Imagining her brother doing the same thing, Ava couldn’t help but slip out a chuckle (which revealed there was more to her than being a complete bitch). Covering her mouth, the White Dove apologized, “I’m sorry for that… you just reminded me of my brother.” After all was said and done, her party companion asked if she wanted to go to the bar with her, “Yeah, sure.”

As they walked, the dancer added, “If I’m coming off a bit standoffish, I don’t mean to. I’m a freshman and kinda new to these kind of parties. I’d be more comfortable if I had friends here or my brother.” For the most part, she was telling the truth, even though she didn’t have any friends besides her brother now (if that even counts). Sighing to herself, she didn’t want to seem like an utter failure at socializing. She wasn’t. The girl just had a major fall out with her friends back in Cali.

With a sudden thought, Ava took a sip of her margarita and curiously asked, “How do you know King? Good friends?" If they were going to hang out tonight, might as well get to know each other a little, “Oh, by the way, I never caught your name.”

Green eyes glanced to the side in contemplation as the other girl responded to her. Wait, why is she apologizing? Having Ava's laugh go completely past her head, Alex merely smiled lightly as the other accepted her invitation to join her for a drink. Slowly but surely, the buzzed girl made her way through the crowd and reached her destination at the bar. Once she arrived, she gave a puzzled look at the bar stool as if it were a challenger because carefully trying to sit on it without tumbling over. The girl quickly ordered a rum and coke as she listened to the silver haired girl speak. As soon as the drink arrived in front of her, Alex drank half of it in one go before responding to Ava.

"I don't think you're being antisocial; I think you're just not drunk enough," the fashion designer stated simply. As if to emphasize her point, she took another sip from her drink, this time smaller and eyeing the other girl as if she was a guilty little kid and Ava was going to scold her any minute. After a silent, awkward moment where the sober girl was probably eyeing the brunette, Alex continued on. "Whoa. You're a freshman? How did you get into this party then..." she trailed off, muttering the last part mostly to herself. However, before she could contemplate on the scenario any further, she waved her hand in the air as if to dismiss Ava's previous concern.

"You haven't started your first day yet. At Mortimer, everyone finds at least someone they can connect with. The school and people sometimes makes you nervous but you'll get the hang of it," Alex supplied gently... which would have been sentimental if she wasn't half-slurring and hiccuping a few times throughout. Remembering that Ava had brought up her brother a few times, the younger girl unknowingly smiled at the topic, her own thoughts drifting to a certain tall, sweet blonde that she would be living with now.

Just as she was about to dot on her best friend, her company brought him up. Taking Alex by total surprise that this stranger and the boy she adored knew each other (despite the fact he was the one who had introduced her to Ava), her whole face brightened as she asked, "Are you a psychic? Or mind reader? Dude! I was just thinking about Richard. That's so crazy!" Clearly excited, the oblivious brunette continued on. "Maybe you're a fairy. Because of your white hair. Which is absolutely gorgeous, by the way," the girl genuinely complimented.

Pumped up now that the alcohol from her drink was now pumping through her, Alex continued babbling on. "I wish I could have that color but it would look weird with my pale skin. And I would have to wear mostly darker colors which I can't." As if just realizing what she had said, the tipsy girl frowned in such a saddened fashion and was silent for a few seconds before her hectically wandering mind went back to a more pleasant subject.

"I'm Alex!" the girl interjected quickly before going off about one of her favorite people in the world. "Hm, something like that. Richard's my bestie and I love him so much!" she exclaimed, her expression beaming. "We're really close. I bet we're like you and your brother."

Nearby, the energetic Carmina had just dissuaded a few attractive Seniors from flirting with her after they realized this lady talked way too much. As they excused themselves, telling the tiny girl they had to go meet ”a friend”, she waved good bye to them while her dark eyes flittered about, landing on the silver haired female she arrived with conversing with a brunette she didn’t know. Her ears caught the conversation, and like the wind, her form stormed over to them, greeting them with an overly cheery smile and a wave of the blue drink in her hand.

”Hello! Your brother is Teddy, right?” she cut in, directing her question to Ava. Her dialogue was far from over though. ”I’m Carmina! It’s great to meet you guys. College is so fun already and classes haven’t even started yet!” Without missing a beat, the Latina took a swig of her beverage before more words started to fall from her lips. ”Whoever that Nick guy is, he really knows how to throw a party, right?!”

Not having much time to respond to the rambling of Alex, simply nodding, drinking, and smiling, Ava’s blue orbs caught sight of a person that rubbed her off the wrong way and entered their conversation rudely. In most cases, she would ignore the presence and continue her chitchat with the drunk Alex, whose words trailed off, slurred, and were a bit all over the place, but Ava adored her anyways. HOWEVER, the first thing that came out of this spanish girl’s mouth was her nickname for her brother, and by her she meant herself: HER NICKNAME. If Ava were to say she was pissed, that would be an understatement. The dancer was fucking infuriated. Did Jasper mention “Teddy” to this tiny bitch? On top of that, her nagging voice was the most annoying thing Ava ever did hear. As the new appearance talked at the speed of light, the silver haired girl chugged the rest of her margarita down. Her face might have showed little to no feeling, but her eyes were set aflame. Asking for another drink, this time a far, far stronger one, a Long Island Iced Tea to be specific, the dancer tightly held onto her glass and gave Carmina a spiteful smile, as she teethed, “Excuse me but… what the fuck did you just call my brother?” No one called him Teddy but her. She would not tolerate some self centered whore, who talked too much (referring to the car ride here), calling her brother a nickname Ava gave him. No bitch. No.

Alex wasn't sure if it was because she had a bit too much to drink or if what she was witnessing was really happening, but it seemed as if suddenly everything was happening so fast. A friendly, pretty looking girl had rushed up to Ava and her and begin babbling off. Now, usually Alex would be judging the girl who introduced herself as Carmina for every single thing she did in a negative fashion, but just having finished her drink, she was mellowed out and rolling with it. Besides, to her fuzzy mind it seemed like she knew Ava. She did mention her brother, after all. Nodding her head as best as she could, Alex had a relaxed demeanor and chill smile on her face. "Coincidence, yo. We were just talking about that!" she stated like she hadn't just burn through half an encyclopedia’s subjects. Gasping with an expression of realization, Alex turned toward Ava. "Hey, Carmen here can be one of your friends," she suggested. Apparently, it didn't seem like Ava was fond of the idea as she stared hard at the shorter girl before gritting some aggressive words out. Furrowing her eyebrows and cocking her head, it took Alex a minute to realize there was some hostility coming from the white haired girl's end.

Carmina blinked exactly twice at Jasper’s sister and her reaction. This chick was getting way too angry for some reason, and the Latina flew through a flurry of assumptions and possibilities for Ava’s behavior. Maybe this white girl was just a fucking racist? That might explain why her hair was whiter than snow. Maybe that was her symbolic testament to white power? These gringos just didn’t make any damn sense to her sometimes. All she wanted to do was party it up and make some friends, but nope! Lady Luck had other plans for her, apparently, which included being lambasted by this wannabe, white supremacist Elsa. Glancing at the brunette that called herself Alex, a quizzical look appeared on Carmina’s visage. ”Um. I can’t tell if she’s psycho or if she’s just fucking racist? Or maybe both? All I did was call her brother ‘Teddy’... It’s not like I was talking that huge dick of his. Like what the fuck, right?” she spewed out right in front of Ava, practically ignoring her. Carmina had a definite sassy and defensive attitude about her now, though she wasn’t exactly prepared for a fight.

Letting go of her drink, allowing this bitch’s audacity to get to her, Ava hopped off her seat and made the idiot face her, manhandling her shoulders. Not often, or rarely actually, is the dancer brought to this level but this ignorant son-of-a-bitch has something coming for her, “You got something to say ass-wipe? Don’t fucking talk about my brother like you know him.” Taking a hair tie off her wrist, she quickly put her hair in a ponytail. Shit was about to get real. With hellfire in her glare, the White Dove scowled, “No one calls him Teddy but me and don’t talk about his dick in public, you little tramp." Her right hand closed up into a fist.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re not his type and don’t mean shit to him besides being a piece of easy ass meat.” The anger inside of the silver haired woman was escalating quite quickly (the alcohol definitely settling in now). At this point in time, she couldn’t stop her incomprehensible rage, “I don’t care what you did with him but if you fucking touch him again, I’ll make you wish you never had.” She was so ready to fight. There was no care in the world that this was in a classy penthouse or that this scene would most definitely make Jasper (and her, probably Alex, and Carmina) look bad. The glass tables could break for all she cared.

Holy shit, this white girl was fucking insane! The miniscule Carmina was suddenly being lorded over by Ava, who was talking all big and bad like she had dominion over what her brother could do and not do with the Spanish girl. ”Okay, first of all, I did know your brother quite well when I was 16. Got it, punta?” Carmina snapped back at the irrationally angered woman. ”Now, why don’t you just step back and get to your fucking Klan meeting or whatever your hillbilly, incestuous ass does? The last thing I wanna have to do is slap a bitch.” she glowered. After all this, Carmina was ready to rumble.

“Oh, I don’t slap. I’m gonna break your fucking nose, you sorry excuse for a woman.”

The only reaction Alex gave to being directly addressed was to indifferently stare at both of the freshmen in front of her. Sure she'd had a longer, somewhat decent conversation with Ava but she wasn't accompanied with either one enough to stand beside them on their positions. Once the perky one mentioned something about Ava's brother's dick, the stylist tsked before giving a curt nod as if to say she was done with the conversation. Turning around to face the bar, she effectively cut herself out from the escalating situation. Even in her hazy state, Alex was starting to get a sense of the potential relationship the two had prior to her meeting them. She raised her glass as a signal to the bartender that she needed another drink after she concluded that she wasn't drunk enough for this. Half listening in amusement as the man prepared her poison, Alex quickly downed the alcohol before wobbling away off the chair. She didn't want to be too close if the two girls did decide to actually go at it but it'd be an entertaining event nonetheless. Just one she'd prefer to watch on the sidelines.

---

---

Olive giggled at the older girl’s response. “Nice to meet you Jen. My name is Olive,” the first year said in polite response. Taking Jen’s hand and shaking it lightly they continued “I think you are making a fine first impression.” Following Jens gaze Olive allowed her mind to wander for a moment, determining that the party was the biggest they would want to go to again, not that they couldn't imagine a party being any bigger.Turning back to get they began explaining themself, “This is my first party, but i guess i would not know if it was big or not...”

Next thing she knew Jen was asking about vodka, “Wait, Vodka? No, i am not old enough to drink in America,” They answered offhand before seeing Jens grin. Something about her smile told Olive that here in college rules about drinking no longer applied.

Jen laughed at that.
“Technically, I’m not old enough either. Do you think that has ever stopped me?” She said, “It’s nice to meet you Olive. We are going to get you very drunk.”
She still remembered what her first party at Mortimers had been like. She’d been a little nervous, more about meeting new people than about any of the activities that usually occurred. She started to make her way over to the bar, expecting Olive to follow.
“Do you want to dive in at the deep end or start with something lighter?” She called over her shoulder.

Oliver followed as Jen made her way through the crowd, sticking close so as to not lose her. “Maybe something not so strong?” They asked, hoping that was the right response. Breaking rules wasn’t exactly something the reveled in doing but, this night would be one to remember either way so why not. Their heart beat faster as they got to thinking about it and they began to grin. ‘I’m going to be a rule breaker’ they thought, as though the realization had made the action more impressive..

Jen pulled out a bottle of vodka and a bottle of Coca Cola. She grabbed a glass and spun around, quickly emptying some of the vodka into the glass, before plopping it back down. She filled the rest of the glass with coke with a surprising amount of delicateness for someone so drunk. She picked up the glass and held it out to Olive.
“There you go. Vodka and coke. Simple, tasty, and not too strong,” She said with a smile.

Olive watched curiously over Jen’s shoulder as she mixed drinks. ”Thanks” they chirped, accepting the glass. They gave it one scrutinizing look before taking a drink. It tasted like neither Vodka nor coca cola, and wasn’t particularly good. Not that it was bad, but it certainly wasn’t what Olive was expecting. Figuring it was an acquired taste they tried it again.
“So, what are you studying at Mortimers?” they asked, leaning against the bar “I am studying cartoon making.” Olive figured this would be a good enough place to start if the two were going to be friends.

Jen drunk a gulp of vodka straight from the bottle, plonking it back down “I’m an artist through and through. Painting and Drawing. No idea what I’m gonna do afterwards though. Probably,” She said, “Are you excited for all the fun you’re gonna be having this year? First year is always good for events. If you go to parties, you’ll probably see me around.”

Olive chortled, “I do not know how many more parties i am going to be going to. But I am very excited for this school year. Maybe i will join some clubs...”

Olive left their sentence open, staring around at the other people at the party. Everyone else seemed to already be at least a little bit drunk and having fun. Taking another drink they turned back to Jen “hey want to dance!”

“Morty’s is good for clubs,” She said, “I’m a member of the baking club. It’s quite fun, and it’s really welcoming for newcomers.”
That reminded her, she hadn’t baked anything in awhile. Maybe when she got home. She took another gulp from the bottle, swaying a little. Or maybe not. She perked up at the mention of dancing.
“Wait, do you mean dancing?” She said, swaying with her bottle slightly, mimicking a slow waltz as best as one could when slightly very drunk
She wiggled her eyebrows a little, and her smile transformed a little, a new form of mischief there. She moved a little closer, yet still retaining a gap.
“Or do you mean ‘dancing’?”

Olive nearly spit out their drink. For some reason or another the way Jen phrased her sentence seemed really funny. Setting their drink down Olive laughed, “Je ne sais pas,” They cheered, taking Jen’s hand “just dance with me, for fun.”
With that said and done they headed toward the crowd of dancers, Jen in tow.

Jen happily followed, glad to be dancing with someone this attractive. She started to move her body to the beat, grabbing Olive’s hands and trying to get them sync, a smile on her face.
Ah well, maybe no one night stand for me tonight. Still… they seem nice, She thought, happy with how the night was turning out, despite not following her plans.