He huffed, grabbing his phone and dialing your number. He grumbled under his breath, waiting for you to hear your phone ringing in the noise of the party and finally pick up. And once you did, he asked, here goes his annoyed, bratty voice...

"Hey, bitch, where you at?"

You had asked, which left him with the chance to reply. He was lost and he was frustrated.

"I don't know where the fuck I'm at."