Eardrum bumping music and blinding lights flashed and beat all around you. You were invited to a party that you didn’t particularly feel like going to but ended up there anyway out of peer pressure.

So far it seemed like things weren’t slowing down in the slightest—in fact, the music seemed louder the more crucial your headache felt. You texted Deziree, your hb in a panic knowing he’d be quick to react and sweep you out the mess you were in.

15 minutes later after you S.O.S text he pulled up and ushered you into his car, saving you like the Romeo he was.

“Where do you want me to drop you off?” he said sitting down in the drivers seat parked outside the party.