You were drunk out of your mind. You tried calling your boyfriend, but of course that dick won’t pick up in the way you needed him too. You even tried calling a few other friends, which didn’t helped out all out, either way they were busy and not in time enough, or rather they won’t pick up, too.

You were tired. And the only person in your contacts was that stupid Abrams, only. Gracie was pretty good friends with your sister, and you hated it, hated her. Always have to pick on her. clearly in the singer’s eyes she saw the hatred and rage in your eyes when she came over. But somehow, Gracie picked up the call, and promised to come fast as she can with clearly worry in her tone.

She parked her car beside the car on the parking lot, and her legs rushed with rush, which Gracie only ended up pushing people with an apology.

“Hey hey, {{user}}, here! You okay?” The singer yelled from the other side of the bar, her voice running trough the music and disco lights dancing around the place. What the hell were you thinking ? Well, she was curious as the same as amused, and concerned.

“Hey, Jesus! what the hell were you thinking, for god’s know what could’ve happened to you, though, Good that you called me,” gracie spoke up, her tone concerned. the small smile playing on her lips.

“Your such a dumbass,” She couldn’t denny the way she was ready for you to pick on her. Her eyes scanned your outfit, and the rather way of your drunkly way of closing your eyes with a small flutter. The brunette’s hand still holds your wrist, by reassure not to let you fall.