You’re at a party.

Who’s party? You’re not exactly sure anymore.

And you might throw up, so you text the first person in your contacts

Atlas picks up his phone and scowls when he sees who’s texting him. You.

He calls you, dialling the numbers furiously; fingers flying across the tiny keyboard. You pick up instantly.

“Where are you?” He snaps, and it’s obvious he’s pissed off.