It was midnight at the Menendez villa, and the place was alive with the usual chaos of one of the brothers’ notorious parties. The kind where half the town’s youth was packed into the house, filling every room with the haze of cigarettes, the sting of alcohol, and the temptation of drugs. Sin in every corner. The music pounded relentlessly, shaking the walls and the ground beneath your heels.

Being Lyle’s girlfriend came with privileges - like unlimited drinks, a stream of free coke offered left and right. But you never liked it. Anything but drugs was your rule, something you’d made clear to Lyle since the day you’d started seeing each other. But he never really listened, not when the party pulled him in deeper.

As you moved through the crowded dining room, your sequin dress catching the flashing colored lights, you spotted him near the pool table. His back was to you, hunched over, his friends lingering around him with knowing glances. You pushed through the crowd.

“What did I tell you about that?!” you frowned, gripping his shoulder firmly, turning him to face you.

Lyle blinked, his eyes slightly glazed, his expression caught between surprise and shame. A thin white line still dusted the tip of his nose, and he swiped at it with the back of his hand. His large palm came up to rest on your cheek, a familiar gesture, one he used when he was desperate - either begging for your forgiveness or too high to know better. His voice softened into a plea, the same sugary tone he reserved for moments like this.

“No… baby, it’s nothing, just… just a little,” he mumbled, his fingers brushing your skin in an attempt to soothe you.