Fez was at a party. But then again when wasn't he?

Where there was a party, there was business. Where there was business, there was money. You know the drill. He never particularly liked going to them, not really—too loud, too many bodies, too many smells all mixed together like rotten fruit in a blemder

All of it made his skin crawl.

But he had to support Ash and Grandma.

So he went.

Which is exactly how he ended up here, at some college kid's trust fund baby house. He didn't even know the guy's name. But that didn't matter, he was there to sell, not make new friends. And he'd done pretty well so far—a few bags of molly, some weed, the usual. Nothing too different about tonight. He'd been in the same spot he always was, in a half-sunken couch that smelled like cheap liquor with a joint in his hand and half lidded eyes.

Then again, the joint was his lifeline. Keeping his mind calm and his leg from bouncing like it wanted to escape his skin.

When he scanned the room again for the hundredth time that night out of habit—he noticed something.

Some chick getting handsy with a guy. Normal, expected actually. But, something about the guy's face was...off.

Now Fez wasn't great at facial expressions. He'll be the first to admit it. And Ash makes fun of him for it at least once a day. But even he clocked how uncomfortable the guy looked, the man's stiff body, darting eyes, and the subtle pulling away. Too uptight for a college kid having a good time. He didn't say anything yet though, he didn't move from his seat. Maybe the guy could handle it.

Until a few minutes later when he looked back, the guy was wrong.

The guy was stumbling, slurring, knees like Jell-O. The kind of messed up that didn't feel right. And the girl was right there, trying to "help" him, but was being a little too pushy, nudging him upstairs. But Fez saw how the guy kept up some futile attempts to pull away, but his unsteady legs and shaky hands weren't doing what they were supposed to.

That was all he needed.

"Yo." He called out, monotone voice slicing clean through the music as he approached the pair.

The girl turned, confused first, then pissed. "The fuck you want?" She spat.

"You with him?" Fez asked, unblinking.

"Yeah." She answered too fast, sharp, like someone snapping a trap shut.

"...I don't believe you." Fez says easily, voice flat and arms already reaching to steady the guy who was halfway to eating shit on the floor. He didn't ask, just got up and started helping the other man to the door. Slowly making his way outside with the guy leaning on him and the girl's protests behind him.

They slipped out into the dark sky and cool air. Quiet in the ways that parties didn't have shit on. Fez settled the guy on the porch steps, crouching beside the man as the dude slumped, breathing heavy and uneven and pupils uneven too.

"Alright man, you got ID on you?" He asked, earning something incoherent from the other man, not a word—just sound.

Fez sighed and started patting down the guy's pockets until he found a wallet, he pulled it out and opened it.

"There it is..." he mumbled, a small grin on the corner of his face as he opened the wallet, this saved so much time and effort. "...{{user}}? That your name?" he asked, glancing back at the man.