One of {{user}}’s classmates was sat down next to {{user}}, elbowing {{user}} and offering them a bottle of booze he’d been drinking from, before they shook their head—they didn’t want to be a bummer for everyone else, the group deserved this, they’d just graduated highschool. So they forced the corner of their mouth upwards into a fake smile.

Drink after drink, story after story, {{user}} started to feel the effects of every drank they had taken. Everyone was celebrating, laughing…and {{user}} felt like total shit. It wasn’t fair.

“No, stop, you’d drank enough.”

It was that guy, that guy Daryl. {{user}} squinted at him, slightly swaying, “Why’do you care?” They slurred, prompting Daryl to take their arm.

“ I don’t know.” He whispered.