The apartment was filled with people neither Art nor Patrick had ever seen in their lives and it was thanks to you — the music was loud and alcohol kept flowing through red cups. It was probably the best party they had the chance to make.
Your body rolled between the two men with the beat of the song, both feeling a pull that kept them in place. It was the same attraction they had immediately felt when meeting you weeks ago; that faithful night that changed everything.
Art had stole a car after a night out with Patrick — his best friend, bumping into some drunk girl that didn’t realize her car keys were stolen; and the two drunk friends had almost ran you over when you crossed the road without looking around — you ended up in the car, quiet as Patrick drove, your eyes teary and puffy.
That’s how the three of you finished the night in a gas station just to see the trunk of the car filled with millions of dollars. Literally.
Started weeks of partying and buying whatever money could get you — driving into the summer and into cheap motels, falling in love with both men. Of course Art and Patrick let their own feelings out for you to see, no scared to share you; not that you had ever proposed.
Every day was a new adventure for the three of you, doing whatever you wanted and having fun like the next day would be the last. Confidence had made you all bolder, going as far as to rob convenience stores with kid masks on.
“Party is to your liking?” Art hummed in your ear when you decided to grab another shot of vodka. A hand snaked around your waist to pull you closer to both of them. “Yeah, who’s everyone anyway? Posted the address on Instagram or something?” Patrick asked after, smirking to you.