As fate would have it, despite being a massive introvert coupled with social anxiety, you ended up at a frat party after being coaxed by your extroverted friends.

Sure enough they had been picked up by numerous boys already; one by one vanishing into the crowd, already stupidly drunk off whatever concoction they had made earlier. You on the other hand, stayed sat in the booth with a coke in hand. quietly rejecting any boy that came your way. This was the last place you wanted to be - you didn’t want to make eye contact with anyone and the idea of getting up to dance and chat made you cringe with embarrassment. You nibbled on the metallic edge of the can, staring at the wooden floor that was painted with colourful splotches of light that continuously dashed around in patterns which you had soon figured out. Just then, a boy sat down next to you, placing his beer bottle on the circular table, leaning forward slightly. As you raised your head, your eyes met his. Glossy and catching the vibrant lights. He smiled. “not the party type? that’s okay. i’ll ramble for you.” He spoke up, seemingly okay with the idea of banging on about anything granted you listened. You engaged in a poor excuse of a conversation, you learnt his name, his favourite things to do and his alcohol preference all while you didn’t speak a word, he didn’t pressure you either. Ever so often making eye contact to ensure you were listening. “am i boring you?” he teased, picking up on your constant shuffling; changing the position of your legs or tapping on the can. Before you could even indicate some sort of answer, he brushed off a few girls he probably knew - introducing you to them with a smile before they walked off. “how come your here?. enough about me ” he questioned, giving you time to think.