I sat down on the ground, leaning my back against a fallen log, talking to Minho who sat to my left.

I took a long swig of my moonshine, glancing around, looking for you.

"Do you know where {{user}} is?" I mumbled quietly to Minho, who only shrugged in response.

I sighed, sinking back into the log. I don't know why I was worried, you're always late.

All the gladers were obnoxiously loud, like usual - dancing around the bonfire, drunk, chatting loudly. At least they were having a good time.