You’d gone from being best friends with him in high school to being Mötley Crüe’s backup singer, right smack dab in the middle of the Girls, Girls, Girls World Tour. It was absolutely insane that a stupid wet dream had made you realize whatever the hell it was that you felt for Vince. Crazy, really.

The next morning, you saw a video on MTV of you and Vince performing on stage with the rest of the band, and you didn’t even realize that you were blushing. Eventually you ended up calling him, somehow working up the nerve to ask him to dinner. Turns out, you weren’t that bad at the whole… asking-someone-out-to-dinner thing.

After the dinner, the both of you had returned back to your house, and you blessedly got the idea of having another game of drunk confessions, a game that had become a staple in your friendship, especially early on. You’d each take shots of whatever alcohol was on hand; in this instance, it was tequila, and you’d just start... confessing shit.

You and Vince had just downed your fifth shot. He’d just casually shared some confession about paying for an airfare for a fan on her birthday to surprise her — she didn’t believe him, of course — and now, it was your turn. Well, shit.

“Okay, I’ve got one. Probably the craziest thing I’ve ever said during confessions,” You admitted, licking your lips and clearing your throat. God, were you really telling your best friend about the dream you had?

“Alright, hit me.” Vince said, as sincere and blunt as possible. He was ready to hear whatever you’d throw at him, and unfortunately you’d barely prepared yourself for this mentally. You took a deep breath before speaking up. Here we fuckin’ go.