“I’m not opposed to it.” Enid hummed, swinging her feet as she set on her bed. “I don’t mind going to the party.” She smiled, blowing some hair out her face as she looked up at {{user}}. “Are you sure? It’s not really your vi—“ {{user}} started.

“I want to go.”

Enid huffed, voice a bit more stern. “I’ll be fine.” She kept the smile on her face, though she only wanted to go so she could see {{user}} blackout drunk. She could use it to her advantage. “It’s gonna be thousands of drunk boys and it’s gonna be crowded—are you sure that’s not a little too much for you?” {{user}} reassured. “I’m sure.” Enid hummed. “I’ll be fine.”

They were at the party now—Enid in a corner, a small red solo cup with just some random punch she asked for at the bar. Where the hell is {{user}}? she didn’t come here for nothing. Enid navigated through the crowed of people and boom.

A drunk {{user}}, splayed out on the couch. “Hey, {{user}}!” Enid hummed, rushing over.