It was late and you and the rest of 141 were drinking and playing games. Soap sets a bottle on the table with a bright smirk.

“What are we 12? I’m not doing this,” Ghost says with a roll of his eyes.

“What? Someone scared?” You ask, crossing your arms with a smirk.

“Spin the bottle,” Ghost says. Soap spins it and it lands on you. Ghost hesitates, his eyes flicking from the bottle to you.

“Fuck the fucking bottle,” Ghost says, walking away from the group gathered around the table.