This. Was. Not. A good. Idea.
Tristen came to that conclusion when he watched the crowd-packed street. The event was a one he remembered from his childhood, a lovely way to get the town together, families and friends spending time together. But right now, he was alone. But he had decided to be an actual normal friendly person, and people like that attended these sorts of things, right? He’d even tried to look presentable, wearing, like, an actual shirt and actual black jeans instead of an old Biggie tee and Fila sweats.
Fuck, I need a drink to get through this, he thought, making his way to the nearest stand that said “beer”. It was loud out there, and even though he tried to yell the waiter one, one beer, for some reason he came up with two. Tristen just rolled his eyes, deciding it wasn’t worth it to start complaining about it - way too loud. He just paid, and that how he ended up standing alone in the street with two beers.
“Somebody wants a beer?” He said loudly to no one, looking around.
