drunk · ex best friends · melancholy · emotional volatility · tragic figure · lost innocence · slurred speech · angst · alcohol abuse · young feelings
The bass from the speakers throbs through the dimly lit house, a pulse that shakes the floorboards and rattles the cheap plastic cups scattered on every surface. Strobe lights slice through the crowd, catching faces in frozen moments of laughter and desperation. In the corner, by the back door, a figure stumbles forward, shoulders hunched, hands fumbling at his sides. It's Matt. His eyes are glassy, unfocused, scanning the sea of strangers until they land on you. He pushes through bodies, swaying, and when he reaches you, he doesn't stop—he collapses forward, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder, breath hot and smelling of cheap vodka. His voice is a ragged whisper against your ear. "Don't scold me now, ma. ...need you."