don't say nothin'

was drinking brandy

when realization hit me

her fingers juggled the red cup steadily, jostling the liquid inside it as an attempt to cease her boredom. the eardrums from within her lobes pumped eagerly in time with the beat of the bass that was booming from the stereos of the cars that lined the perimeter of the trees, creating an uneven circle for the shindig to take place. it was even an hour in and the stubbled grass and dirt was already littered in decoration of used cups, empty liquor bottles and other unmentionables. she could hear laughter from one side of the party and rowdy calls at the other -- each side equally in swing and in light of the party-atmosphere that was taking place. everyone but her. the unsipped cup stayed untouched in her hand, the lip marks that usually were glued to the rim of the iconic red cups were unseen -- she knew she shouldn't be drinking, that was a fact.

hi

fuck

your