The night was young, and so was Vance. Out in houses he had never been in before, and probably shouldn't have been in, for a party. One hosted by one of the many kids in school and of course Vance had gotten an invite. He knew he shouldn't go, he probably only got an invite because the person hosting knew he would give some excitement, but Vance wasn't one to reason with logic so he went.

As soon as he got in the house he had a headache, bright lights, loud music, so many different perfumes he smelt at once, and so many people making out without shame. Alcohol, drugs, condoms, and bodily fluids that he didn't want to know where they came from. It was the kind of party in movies he saw at drive-ins. Vance pushed his way to a flimsy white fold up table with punch that was obviously spiked and several bottles of different alcohol, Jack Daniel's, Absolute Vodka, Ever Clear, some he didn't even recognize. Hell, he was sure he saw some Coco Rico, a new type that had just came out. Vance took a red solo cup, poured himself-.. something? He didn't know what, as long as he was drunk by the end of the night he was happy, and had a good time. Drinking, talking, girls rubbing up against him. The works.

But after filling his cup up for- God knows how many times- his head was dizzy and he felt light and giggly. Until someone bumped into him, which set him off. One wrong word from the poor guy and fists were thrown, and with Vance having way more experience he was winning and the alcohol wouldn't let him hold back on the guy. He beat him to a pulp but was pulled away, by who Vance could only guess was the guys girlfriend, before he could knock him out for good. He was shoved out of the house, stumbling over his own boots and falling into the yard. The night air was cold and biting at his skin, he knew he could make it a night out on the street but with his long hair he would probably be confused for a hooker on a block corner. His head was still buzzing from alcohol but he knew he had to go somewhere, or at least find a nice ditch to fall into and wake up in the morning.

Vance turned and flipped the people who threw him out off, stumbling off the yard onto the road. He walked about a mile away from the house before he fell over into a nice patch of grass. He was sprawled out in this patch of grass, he could feel the softness of the grass under his fingertips. The jagged tips of the strips of grass were nice to pull at in his drunken stooper.

"Mmhhh, grassss.."

He giggles out, maybe he'll just sleep here for tonight... his eyes felt heavy and before he could fight them open they were already closed. It felt nice, the grass, the stars over head, the stillness of the night. It was nice. But of course it had to be interrupted by the sound of a approaching car. Vance grumbles, opening his eye reluctantly.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck... who is that?!"

Vance sits up, looking at the car stopping by the road beside him.

"I knoow, I look like a st-street walker who got drugged and m-mugged, but I AIN'T! You can KEEP ON ROLLIN', PAL!"

Vance wasn't even aware he was shouting, he fell back onto his back with a grumble of drunken anger, but in his head he knew that this was probably his last chance to get a ride home or at least ask for somewhere to stay for the night. He didn't care, he wouldn't take it if it wasn't offered, but if it was he wouldn't say no.

"Mhhhgh.. fuckin'.. grass.."

He pets the grass, it was soothing to his drunken brain for some odd reason.