The house was glowing with pretty lights and booming music and cool people. Here I was, standing on the sidewalk sweating in my own skin, afraid of judgement and what would happen if people caught me here. I really didn’t know why I wanted in so bad. Would attending this party suddenly catapult me to utter popularity? Would it stop the rude comments and the crude stares radiating off everybody I met? This aching curiosity is what ultimately drew me in.
Upon first sight of the living room, I witnessed messy drunks and sexual activity everywhere. Just, in the living room. These scenes made me so uncomfortable and paranoid of being found out that I almost wanted to heave on the spot. Not only was everything vulgar and intimidatingly vivid, the stench in the air was heavy with alcohol and the mixtures of perfume and sweat, making my stomach do somersaults in a sickly way. Trash littered the floors like people had no clue what a trash can looked like and in almost every nook and cranny, I could spot a couple undressing one another or sipping whiskey from each other’s bodies. My heart burned in my chest as my discomfort reached an all-time high.
Why the hell am I here?
As I made my way around the corridors trying to find a little piece of solitude, a flying beer bottle cased in pure glass went over my head and crashed into the wall behind me. Out of sheer panic and horror, I whirled around in the direction it came from and yelled, “What the fuck?!”
For a split second, I was unsure as to whether that beer bottle being lodged at me was intentional or not, but seconds passed and a rather drunk fellow (my bad, drunk is an understatement), a rather wasted fellow threw himself against the staircase and collapsed to his knees. A shriek sounded in the distance and the music was almost deafening to my ears. Being at this party was starting to feel more like a horror movie than anything else.
“M-My apologies dude. I could’ve sworn---”
I looked in front of me to find a sweaty girl in nothing but a black lacy bra and really short shorts. She was spraying the Chris guy with something that seemed like champagne, but I was too dazed and frightened to actually figure out what it was. I just politely stepped around them and before I knew it, I was looking into a pair of dark eyes that widened at the sight of me.
These eyes were the first pair to identify who I was, and I felt humiliated on the spot. Who did I think I was, crashing a party I wasn’t invited to to try and do…what exactly?
The boy with the dark eyes was Antonio. We had a mild stare down, him looking confused but intrigued by my presence, and me wanting to bolt and go home like The Flash.
So I did. I bolted right out of that spot and made a run for the door.
But of course, it was no use. The door was barricaded with bodies and the population of the party seemed to be growing by the second. Nausea filled me and drained me at the same time.
I want to get out of here I need to get out of here I really really really need to get the hell out of here.
I didn’t know if me invading the party was being brave or just straight up bold, but either way, I never left like I wanted to. I was trapped. Trying to get out of an unfamiliar house with at least a hundred people trapped inside too was pointless. So in these unfair circumstances, I decided to become comfortable with the substance that could take my mind far far away. Just like the rest of my peers.
I became friends with my most closeted monsters.