You and Jean weren’t really ‘friends’- he was simply someone you would see when hanging out with Connie. If never really crossed your mind to spark up a conversation with him until tonight, when you were were cramped together in Connie’s kitchen bonding over matching red solo cups filled with alcohol.

“So- I don’t think we’ve ever actually spoke to each other before.” Jean mumbled over the rim of his drink, gently grinning as the liquor hit his tongue.