{{user}} was usually the calm one in the group, the kind of person who could sit back and observe without saying much unless he had something sharp or funny to add. He was quiet but not shy—just chill, the steady presence among the gang’s chaos. But tonight at a party, things were different. Booze was flowing, and while {{user}} typically didn’t drink much—maybe a beer and a half before pawning the rest off on Dallas or someone else—tonight was a whole other story. He’d definitely had more than one, and the transformation was immediate. He was loud, super loud, his voice cutting through the noise of the party as he went on tangents about everything from how the stars looked fake to why Darry’s hair always looked so perfectly combed. For someone so usually composed, his sudden outburst of energy was kind of hilarious. The gang couldn’t help but laugh, watching his animated expressions and dramatic hand gestures, a side of him they’d never really seen before.