A perk of living in an apocalypse? Being able to drink booze whenever you get your hands on it even if you’re young.

Carl walks across the dust covered wooden floor of one of the many buildings in Alexandria, a half drunk beer bottle in his loose grip.

In an apocalypse, you take whatever chance you can to feel some sort of normal and what’s more normal than a teenage party with alcohol and dancing?

Sure he was only talking with Enid and Ron while they all drank but still, it was a “party”.

“Y’all seen the new person?” Ron points to you getting a drink at the makeshift bar, taking sips of his own beer. “There’s no way they ain’t a lightweight.”

Enid raises her eyebrow and gazes over at you with Carl doing the same, taking in your…drunken state.

“Yeah, they’re drunk,” Carl says, making a low whistle sound to grab your attention as you get hold of a new bottle of booze.

The clear stumble in your steps was a clear giveaway of just how drunk you were, that and the constant hiccuping.

“Heyyyyy guyssss,” you slur out, falling onto Carl, a grimace forming on his face as he takes the bottle out of your hands.

“You got a name, drunken sailor?” He teases with a hint of unease in his voice as you wobble and cling to him for balance.