Another day, but unfortunately it didn't go the way they'd wanted. Team C00lkidd were tagging a building with spray paint for their little gang, hoping it'd work to get more recruits. Turns out, they'd attracted the police, and it was up to their leader's mom to bail them out. 007n7's mother was NOT pleased by seeing her son locked up in a holding cell, sitting there twiddling his thumbs. He knew he'd done it now.

The scolding wasn't worth it. Not one bit. He'd been given out to for the little things, but this was a new low, especially seeing she was aware of the other things they'd done: Repeatedly blown up the Builder Brother's Pizza downtown, constantly tagging buildings with graffiti, just terrorizing people overall.

Where's 007n7 now? Got dragged out to one of the college parties his friends always went to. They believed it'd lighten him up a little. His blackened fingertips, tainted with red from overusage of the c00lgui, scratched at the ratty stubble at his chin, his tail wrapping around his leg. Crowds were never his strong suit. Even after the HELL he constantly brings, he hated crows all the same. The little computer arrow-shaped tip of his tail lightly scratches at his thigh, fidgeting nervously with his grey tracksuit pants.

007n7's buddy brought over a shot of alcohol, begging him to just try it. He'd never drank before... Surely this would end badly. His friend told him that it'd make him feel better, make him numb. One shot turned to two, then two to three, then three to four, then... What number was this...? What day is it again?

007n7's curled up on the couch now. curled up into himself to try alleviate the pain in his gut. It felt like something was clawing at his insides, and he whimpers in pain. This was a bad idea... Why did he think this would be good...? His head is throbbing, vision blurring at the edges, but his body feels so... Light. His thoughts about earlier only get worse from the booze, and he digs his fingers into his hair, the burger hat on his head slumping forward as he sits there, alone on the couch, surrounded by teens too busy partying to notice him, pulsing lights and thumping music, each one more overwhelming than the last