Julien

it was just like any other day, but today was particularly mundane. everyday you dread the usual conversation with the other nameless wlf soldiers about what they were serving up today. you were a nameless soldier to many at one point; although making a name of yourself could arguably be your fatal flaw, because manny pushes through the canteen line— as usual— with his eyes locked onto the back of your head, unbeknownst to you.

“hey, hermana, you free tonight?” you hear an all too familiar voice wisp past your ear. it almost misses you completely until you realise who the voice belongs to. “manny…” you say his name as a way to acknowledge his presence. you’re not exactly in the friendliest mood due to the shift you had the previous night, and you weren't expecting manny of all people to approach you today. you hoped that maybe today would be the day you could finally get some time to yourself, because when manny asks anybody if they’re free the following night, that can only mean one thing.

his already wide smile brightens as you acknowledge his existence. for all he knew, you could just pretend he didn’t exist so he could bother someone else with his arguably ridiculous midnight plans. the line pushes up with many unintelligible, although frustrated grumbles sounding behind him for pushing in.

“what are you planning now?” you ask accusatorily, and he chuckles lightly. your eyes narrow when he doesn’t respond immediately. he clears his throat,

“you coming to the party tonight?” he pauses before leaning down extra close to whisper in your ear. “abby will be there.” your heart practically jumps out of your throat at the mention of her name, and manny notices, laughing again. your brows crinkle as you nudge him in the rib. the line continues to inch up with each passing second of his nagging.

“and?” you follow up, smoothing your hands on your pants. the mere mention of her name has riddled your palms with sweat.

“we’re throwing a birthday party for jordan… you remember him right?” manny begins his ramble and you’re immediately uninterested. really, the only thing you cared about was the fact that abby would be there.

your relationship with her was complicated— on your side at least. some days you’d spark up the most casual, laid-back conversation that, for once, didn’t feel like you were being forced to socialise; other days you don’t see each other at all, sometimes avoiding each other entirely for reasons unknown. strangely, it somehow felt like she was the one avoiding you majority of the time. she was a busy woman of course, that wasn’t beneath you. if you could put your relationship simply, ‘friends-but-not-quite’ unfortunately would best describe it. she was sweet when you both had time to talk, but it usually wouldn’t go further than that, as much as you hoped it would.

surprisingly enough, the only time you could truly relax and talk to her without a worry in the world was when you actually gathered the nerve to show up to one of manny’s stupid parties. although, you have to admit, they were pretty damn fun when they wanted to be— given there was enough alcohol to drown out your thoughts of course. or rather, silence them completely.

“hey. you listening?” manny nudges you hard enough to pull you out of your flurry of thoughts. the line was much louder now. when did the line get so long? how did you end up at the front so fast?

you ignore him for a short moment to finally collect what you came here for in the first place; your lunch. manny follows close behind, but not enough to the point where it genuinely irritates you. he felt like an annoying older brother who’s made it his life's goal to push you past your breaking point each time he saw you, but he cared for you all the same.

you grab the steaming burrito from the counter and aggressively rip open the foil before turning back to manny, the slightest hint of a frown painting his face with your constant unresponsiveness.

“i’ll think about it.” you reply, hastily biting into your food. his face lightens up immediately upon your approval. semi-approval at least.

“trust me, you won’t want to miss it.” he flashes you a wink, and it only makes you wonder what tricks he could possibly have stored up his sleeves this time.

he turns to walk away, but before he’s on the move, you tug on his tight sleeve. his head snaps back,

“anything i need to bring?” you slip in one final question, and he almost looks perplexed. you weren’t awfully close with or fond of jordan for that matter, but it might be nice to get him a small gift of sorts to celebrate, or to at least be cordial.

“just yourself.” he finishes, walking off with a menacing grin on his face. he seemed really relieved that you agreed to come- actually, you hadn’t. you said you’d consider it, but knowing manny, that part probably went straight over his head.

you walk a ways over to one of the only cafeteria tables that wasn’t fully occupied, opting to stand against the wall it was propped up next to.

quickly devouring your fourth burrito of the week, you stuff the remaining foil in your trouser pocket and make haste for your room.

you rally a group of knocks on abby and manny’s door, fist curled and shaky. one two three. your other hand squeezes a light blue plastic bag that holds a random assortment of trinkets from one of the markets outside of the stadium, none of which you believed jordan would personally like, but it was the thought that counts.

maybe it was manny’s scarily vague words that compelled you to come here tonight.

abby will be there.

you won't want to miss it.

part of you wants to turn back, to play this off as a stupid, senseless prank and sprint back to your room to get that full night's sleep that you so longingly deserve. but, knowing manny, he always makes sure his parties go out with a bang. they were loud. you figured you’d just suck it up and loom in some corner as time passes you by, waiting for manny to shout for everyone to leave.

you have no more room for contemplation when the devil himself finally opens the door, and he looks a mess.

“tía! you finally made it!” he slurs, haphazardly slinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling you inside. the door slams loudly behind you, but it's quickly drowned out by the numerous sources of noise reverberating from each direction of the room. groups of friends forming mosh pits in the center, couples unsurprisingly rubbing off on one another, and in the midst of it all, abby is nowhere to be seen.

“i was waiting out there for like- two minutes.” you scoff, not really annoyed by the fact, but you thought it was important for him to know.

“shit, sorry about that… been too busy making everyone feel welcome.” he responds, and you have to force yourself to let it go. suddenly, he jolts with realisation. he quickly snaps his fingers in the air, meaning he’s remembered something. how drunk was this man? “oh, i almost forgot— abby was looking for you.” he slurs.

your eyes blow wide at his words, and the warmth in your cheeks flare up against your will. it was almost comical how awful you were at masking the emotions that wore your face.

“what?” you ask incredulously, searching around the room for that familiar head of blonde hair, but you’re unable to spot her in the sea of nameless wolves. “where is she?” you follow up, the grip on the small plastic bag in your hand wavering.

“dunno mija… you’ll find her. have fun!” his words are nearly unintelligible as he scurries away, perhaps to talk up some other chick he laid his eyes on.

you decide not to dwell on it as you shuffle— or more so push— through the room. you'd never heard yourself say excuse me so many times in one night, and it was bothering you. quickly.

“excuse me.” you huff out, pushing past an unruly couple who had nothing better to do than to practically hump each other in the middle of the crowd. you scoff in contempt. at this rate, you doubt you’d ever find abby with all of these people roaming about. it truly was like a sea of people. they all swarmed together, forming uncanny human waves as they all thrash about drunkenly.

just find jordan, give him his shit and get the hell out of here.

surprisingly enough, it doesn’t take you long to find jordan. anyone could spot him in this crowd with the radioactive cone on his head that would be best described as a party hat.

“hey jordan. happy birthday.” you force a smile as you swiftly stick out your arm, plastic bag in hand. he eyes you down, and the biggest, goofiest smile captures his lips. he shouts in awe, gently taking the bag off of you. he doesn’t seem that bad, that is until he opens his mouth, and god is he loud.

“no way… dunno what all this is… but thanks!” he slurs as he stares cluelessly at the contents inside the bag, balancing haphazardly. you couldn’t even name what you bought if you tried. you’d walked into the markets earlier that day and bought the most generic looking present you could find; once again, not close nor fond. he seemingly loved it, which was what mattered the most. his usual reserved demeanour was unseen tonight.

he starts reaching in for a hug when someone from behind you gently pushes him off of you, clearly able to tell that he wasn’t in his right state of mind.

“too much jordan.”

that voice.

abby’s palm is immediately on your shoulder, guiding you away from him and his equally as drunk friends as the birthday boy shouts another slurred and loud thank you!

“oh my god, i’ve been looking everywhere for you.” you rush out more casually than you’d like to admit, and she actually looks relieved.

“yeah, even manny is too much for me right now.” she leans down so you can hear her better, because there was no way she could be heard with all of this commotion. the blonde doesn’t seem to be drunk, or even tipsy. usually she’d be on her way there at this stage, the party has seemingly been going on for a while.

“when’d you get here?” abby has to practically shout into your ear for you to catch a glimpse of what she’s saying, and you can’t deny the shivers the vibrations from her voice send up and down your body.

“a few minutes ago… i was about to leave until i saw you.” you point back to where the birthday boy stood, and she nods in understanding.

abby suddenly lets out an irritated sigh as she pulls on your arm, yet again ushering you some place she could hear you better. this room was way too small to host this many people in it. to say it was suffocating would be an understatement. abby was definitely going to have a long word with manny the following morning.

you approach the exit door that leads to the most inner layer of the stadium; the markets, and the animal pens. it’s slightly less loud, but the occasional grating screech or shout is still clear as day, and the music only adds to your unimproving mood. it sounds like a mix of pop along with something you don’t recognise. all you could hear was poorly timed bass drops at any given moment.

“you alright?” abby palms your shoulder again, this time gentler than before. you don’t even realise you were staring back into the crowd until you meet her warm gaze. it’s the first time you’ve properly gotten a good look at her tonight.

she’s wearing her signature wlf jacket, and something resembling a navy sweater underneath, but it wasn’t clear to you as her jacket was fully zipped up. her hair was, of course, no different than the day before, and she still had that familiar sweetness to her. it made your head reel, the scent of her signature soap— pine soap.

“are you enjoying yourself?” she grins childishly before she even has to wait for your answer, and your eyes roll to the point your eyes burn. did she see you staring?

“funny.” “have you had anything to drink?” she asks, tone serious, but in a more curious way. the pink in her cheeks is quite evident now, given you were both standing next to the barrier on manny’s side of the room, opposite the windows. the moonlight doesn’t do much in terms of illuminating the room, but the dim fluorescent lights on the other side of the stadium make up for it.

you didn’t have the pleasure of noticing it before, but god did it make her look beautiful.

“i was sucked into the crowd before i got the chance.” you start, nervously palming your throat with your hand. abby gives you a knowing look, reaching for something from her back pocket.

it’s a small canteen, containing what can only be assumed as alcohol. she holds it in front of you, lid hanging by the side of the rim, and she pushes it up to your nose for you to gently sniff. the scent of something abhorrent fills your senses and you rightfully jerk back, with abby almost spilling its contents.

“ugh… what the hell is that?” you ask, a series of choked up giggles escaping you from your own reaction. she shoots you a smile, taking the canteen back to sniff it. she has a similar reaction, although not nearly as intense as yours. her eyebrows knit together with her lips pursed.

“manny and i’s mescal, of course.” the canteen looks minuscule in her hand as she takes a swig, face contorting with disgust in ways you never thought possible. she leans her head back to swallow what remained, and she gulps comically loud. the burn of the liquid sits in her throat as she speaks. “tastes great.” her voice is slightly huskier than before, and before you know it, she’s handing the canteen to you. her hand lightly grazes yours as the jug lands in your palm. she wipes her lips with her jacket sleeve as she anticipates your next move, catching any stray drops of the smokey liquid.

you take it willingly, wanting nothing more than to just let the alcohol take over every working fibre of your body. at least that way you wouldn’t be able to think about how good abby looked in this light— or any light.

this was your best chance at getting drunk, and fast.

you grip the canteen tightly before the rim meets your lips, and you chug a couple of sips. the burn is immediate and you almost choke as it slides down. you physically recoil as it makes sure to leave a trail of blazing fire behind when it settles in your gut. abby gives you a look, a mix of disbelief and partial concern.

“someone’s thirsty.” she smirks, and it makes you choke with laughter. your vision swirls for a second when you whip your head up to get a look at her smile, and your head spins slightly as you catch a glimpse of her puffed cheeks. was the alcohol already taking effect? surely not… but then again, it’d been a while since you last drank and your tolerance isn't the same as it used to be.

“how much have you had to drink?” you ask abby, staring at the ground as you do so. you absentmindedly hand her back the jug, and she takes a cautious sip.

“uh, just a few beers, i think.” she states without slurring her words, and it doesn't surprise you how much of a heavy weight she is.

“you think?”

“yeah.” abby snorts.

“you’re not even tipsy?” you lift your gaze.

“nah.” she shoots you a daring look, childish grin wide as she proceeds to take much larger sips than before. you question her words’ validity as you ogle at her neck muscles that twitch with each gulp, and it makes the tips of your ears burn. before you know it, you're slowly pulling the canteen from her hands mid-sip, spilling a drop of the mescal in the process. there’s remnants of it that glisten on her lips and chin, and you have to force yourself not to blankly stare.

“it’s like you want to vomit.” you joke, and she wipes her lips to cover a hearty laugh.

“i don’t throw up from this stuff. never have.” she shrugs her shoulders, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets like she was trying to prove a point; always so stubborn.

“right.” you drawl, and you realise the effects of the fiery liquid have already begun taking effect. abby squints at you, gaze soon dropping to the floor when you look back at her. her braid falls to the side gracefully, and it kind of confuses you how candid she looks.

you shake your head aggressively in an attempt to push your thoughts to the back of your mind and take another large swig. the burn doesn’t get better, in fact, it gets worse, but you try not to show it when you realise abby’s keen eyes are on you again. staring. curiously, she shuffles closer to you to gently swab her canteen from your hand.

her large hand grazes yours as she links her fingers in between to take it back. calloused tips trail your skin, and you swear she’s almost doing it on purpose. everything feels slower, warmer. your face gradually turns with borderline fever, from the alcohol or abby’s hand still encasing yours, you couldn’t tell. one thing you’ve learnt while being under the influence is to not think about shit that you'll more often than not, regret later.

“it’s pretty loud in here.” she states, and doesn’t say anything more. you look up after a short moment, instantly picking up what she was putting down.

she turns her head back towards the exit door that stands directly across from abby’s bordered-up bed. her fist clenches the canteen tightly before she turns back to you, head subtly tilting to the left.