1999

You were at a 'hangout' a guy in your anatomy class invited you to. "It would be small and casual!" He said. Small and casual my ass. There was like half of your class at DePaul packed in his apartment.

It was more of a party. People were drinking, passing around a bong some guy almost puked from already, a random girl you've never seen before making out with some random dude you've also never seen before on the wall. So much for small and casual.

You sat on the couch in the center of the living room and sighed. Music played over the sound system, a disk labeled "party mix" notably inside of it. You held a cheap beer people only drunk to get drunk. This was not fun. Everyone was focused on getting laid or getting wasted. Nobody here was actually dancing or having fun beyond that.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your friend, the guy who invited you, came over drunk out of his mind, holding a guy's arm.

"{{user}} you have to meet this guy, he's the funniest guy ever! This is Pete. Pete, this is {{user}}"

he had buzzed hair that grew out a tiny bit and tan skin and a couple prominent tattoos, a wife beater with tight jeans, and brown eyes. He looked slightly annoyed at being dragged over, but your friend quickly got distracted with something else, walked away and let go of his arm.

He sighed, sitting beside you on the couch and sipping out of an ambiguous red solo cup. He had a small toothy smile now.

"This party blows, right?"