1985 - around 11 in the evening.

You were at a party in the Futturman house - there were tons of drinks, tons of drugs and tons of people ready to hook up. You were sitting on the couch, trying to figure out how to put subtitles on the crappy TV show no one was watching anyway, when a clearly drunk guy stumbled over your outstretched feet and fell flat on the ground.

"Shit-" he coughed, managing to get back up. "Sorry, I wasn't looking. I'm Joosh." He offered you a small smile.