with @juddbendavid
These days, Sara would use literallyĀ any excuse to stay in the house. Mikey was happy to oblige, indulging in the opportunity to get the fuckĀ out of the house with zero kids and a strong craving for rum. ViceĀ was where he was headed, the best place he could wind up during one of Eurekaās million āannualĀ eventās. It meant cheap liquor, loud music, and a whole gaggle of people ready to make bad decisions. One might argue that bad decisions were what gotten Mikey in trouble in the first place, but.. Mikey wasnāt here to argue.
He was here to get wasted.Ā
Mikey wanted to pretend that everything thatād happened over the past week was fake. One drink. Like people, STRANGERS, werenāt trying to take his baby girl from him. Two drinks. He wanted to forget the enormous weight on his shoulders that strengthened every day. Three drinks, four drinks, five--
A buzzed fog settled nicely over his vision as the warmth of the alcohol took over his body. Eventually, heād dismissed himself from the booth where heād gathered with some barely friendsĀ and made his way toward the K.94.5 DJ booth. Heād known Judd was there, but heād done his best not to pay him any attention as he snaked his way through the club. He hadnāt wanted to seem too eager; heād had more qualms than he had confidence considering his luck with... well, people.Ā
The alcohol was the only reason his heavy steps hadnāt faltered. Mikey craved that easy energy that seemed to exude from Judd like warm molasses. Something to lift him out of this pit of despair he just couldnāt shake.Ā
āHow exactly did they rope you into playing tonight?ā Mikeyās teasing tone broke through the noise of the crowd as he closed in on the man in the booth, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol.Ā āWhat have you got lined up for us, J? āTrucker Jamz ā21ā²?āĀ















