Dallas had thrown a house party with a few close friends that had gotten out of hand. The lights were dim and chatter rang loud against the wall. He slid his hand across the edge of the pool table, putting his cigarette out on the side of the worn wood. “Which lucky bastard is gonna beat my winning streak tonight?” He says with a toothy grin, pushing dark hair back from across his forehead. As he’s about to speak he’s interrupted by a familiar voice, a good friend of his.