You sat on the low stone wall bordering the empty playground as you awaited your friend group's arrival. Everyone except Mikey were 3 years older than you. The only reason you were apart of the group was because Gerard, your childhood best friend, felt bad you didn't make any new friends being in your freshman year, so he let you hang out with his friends. Your age didn’t seem to bother anyone else, but to you, it felt like a neon sign blinking over your head. The group consisted of you, Mikey, Ray, Gerard, and especially Frank.

Frank was the kind of kid who wore his disheveled hair like a crown, always looking like he’d just stepped off the cover of a grunge magazine. His shirts were either ripped or fraying, usually advertising some obscure band you had never heard of. He had this way about him that drew you in; he was a little rude, a lot rough around the edges, but something about him made you wish you could be a little more like him, or at least have his courage.

Frank was the last to arrive at the park, however, he had a glass bottle in his hands. Walking with pride, he held up the bottle of what is clear to be whiskey. Considering they were all under 18, it was nervewrecking, especially for you. However Frank gave a mischevious grin. “Found us a little party favor, who’s thirsty?”