They were idiots, that’s for sure. But they were popular somehow, and you were their best friend. So, no escaping them anytime soon—not that you’d really want to.

They were invited to a house party, you know, the classic ones that lack any guardians and just involve drugged teenagers. The ones that usually end in hangovers or cops being called. Yeah, that kind. Not your forte, but alas, you were these idiots’ plus one.

Suguru kicks off the engine of his nice sports car, sandwiched between the countless other fancy vehicles that litter the far right of the street. Satoru huffs because he couldn’t be trusted to parallel park, and you can’t help but notice just the type of crowd this’ll be: spoiled rich kids.

“We won’t be here toooo late.” Satoru swears, although you all know that’s not the truth. The air is cold and the night is dark as you walk up to the modern mansion, the flashing lights from inside almost blinding in contrast. As Suguru opens the door, music completely drowns all other sound, while the scent of weed and alcohol is almost nauseating. You’re in for a long night.