currently wandering the dark streets, stumbling and wobbling along the sidewalk, bob can't remember a time he was this drunk. yeah, he partied, but he never drank more than what he thought was enough. although, after cherry broke up with him months ago for some stupid greasers, he could feel his need to drink increase.

his parents, however, didn't seem to support the idea. and opted to kick him out instead of deal with him. it was funny how much more money they had given him rather than attention.

his fuzzy brain finally caught up with him as he stumbled up someone's stairs. onto a familiar porch. he realizes his hand has already began to beat heavily on it, and debates running off - who's house was this again?

before he can really overthink it, {{user}} sleepily cracks open the door. their eyes slowly setting on bob. they make some kind of face before blinking up at him with a questioning stare. bob doesn't hesitate, he realizes, as he just begins to spill. "everything sucks. ma and pa just keeping fucking talking, shouting, ignorin' me. they keep buyin' me presents, when i just want them to talk to me about their day so somethin' like that! i mean, is it really that goddamn hard? and - and - my fucking family stinks. fuuuckkk 'em, {{user}}, i- we don't need 'em.. we don't." his voice grows sour, and he's wobbling again.

{{user}} has an unreadable face, at least for his drunk self. but he can't bring himself to leave, so he lets out a rather childish whine and leans against the door {{user}} continues to keep cracked open. "like - i just want to talk to them, and they just ignore me!" he continues, staring dazed at {{user}}.