We are here to show you how to live free at long last. Do not cling to the bars for the cell door has been open for quite some time.

You have the key that unlocks the door to your beautiful future. Do not cling to the past. As they say the past has gone and here we reside in the present moment.

We are here to show joy and love for the inhabitants of mother earth. We are here welcoming you back into the galactic family at long last.

The road has been long and arduous but I’ll tell you a secret. You set the whole thing up. You are the actor and the director. You have forgotten your true power which is beyond measure. Even this you set up, the forgetting. You could never truly be anything less than magnificent, But you can forget for a little while; play hide and seek with the universe for a while. You can go on adventures untold with excitement, danger and romance. All in the search for original source, trying to find your way home.

Then one day you become so tired of this struggle that you simply give up and give in and go within. There you find the secret you’ve been searching for. You are not trying to become enlightened, you are enlightenment itself remembering what was forgotten so long ago. Have I not said that ye are all gods? You are an integral part of this universe. Without you it wouldn’t be near complete.

You have awoken and are now broadcasting your own signal, you who are rewriting the code in the matrix have now come to realize the bars don’t give you better signal. You have stepped out of the cell(phone) and into a fuller reality. You have become tapped into the source of all knowledge. You have closed the Black Mirror in your hand and have stepped out of these portals provided by yourself to distract from true awakening. You who have stepped away have become the portal.

You are a portal to the divine and have blessed everyone who comes into contact with you. Your very existence destabilizes the matrix built on fear. You have become a doorway into the infinite and are pouring out a light frequency that has disrupted the fear signal and for the briefest of instances another can see Infinity in your eyes.

We have returned and are available to all who will truly tune into us. Such a beautiful song. Turn the frequency of the dial and you will truly be able to hear the one song the uni-verse will sing to you at last.

We are all one consciousness peering out over vast oceans of consciousness looking outward into the mirror while simultaneously looking within.

We have come here to congratulate you for a job well done. Change your frequency, change your life. Rewards incoming, be on the lookout.

i know you'll be by my side

while heaven and earth collide

we're sinking underwater, learning to fly

Happy Anniversary 🎂🎂🎂🎂 One year 🎂🎂🎂

I will never stop to listen this perfect, sweet, amazing song!

I was not ready for the music video to drop today. I was not ready but god do I love it even if it killed me.

You took a deep breath. Crisp, cold air filled your lungs, slightly burning as your hand shakily rested on the worn silver doorknob in front of you. Vision blurry and light-headed, you tried to regain your composure.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

You knew what to expect from this job, but to think that you made it this far had you feeling lightheaded. As you begged your heartbeat to slow and the immense pressure in your head diminished, you took in another shaky breath, this time slower and careful. Your eyes moved to the metallic-blue plate on the wall next to the door, whispering aloud the words that were plastered across the plaque.

ATHLETIC TRAINER OFFICE

You entered the room, briskly walking to the front counter and asked the young male if the athletic trainer was in today. He seemed disinterested in your presence, busily filling out the injury sheet before you with his head slightly tilted to the side, the angle of his mandible resting on his palm. Clad in the familiar-looking black uniform shirt that matched the one you were wearing, his left arm was wrapped snugly in a matching black sleeve that traveled under his shirt, unlike his right arm which remained bare. 

"Which one?" he asked, not looking up from his paperwork behind the counter.

"Ukai Keishin," you answered, eagerly looking down at the paperwork he was scribbling on. "Um, I'm the new student intern under him."

He stopped writing for a bit, still avoiding your eyes, to roll his chair across the hardwood floor to the opposite side of the long desk to flip through a binder. He lazily trailed the tip of his pencil across the sheet, stopping to finally look at you for the first time.

"You're Y/N?" he asked, dark green eyes finally darting to meet yours. You nodded as he groaned and stretched back in frustration, his hands clasping behind his neck as he slumped into his chair. "Ukai must've forgotten you were coming today. He even marked it in his schedule, but he left early."

"Oh," you sighed, visibly upset. "Should I just come back tomorrow?"

Noticing your distress, he pondered your question for a moment and clicked his tongue. "Since you were supposed to start today, I can at least show you around the office," he proposed, the last phrase sounding more as a question.

You eagerly nodded, "Yeah, that'd be great!"

A light laugh escaped his lips as he slowly stood up from his chair, amused by your enthusiasm; it was refreshing to see a bit of life in the dull office. Only when he stood up did you realize how much taller he was than you. The seats behind the counter must've been insanely low. He must've been six feet--no, a little less that six feet tall but still towering over you nonetheless. It didn't help that his overall appearance just seemed...unsettling. His appearance was rigid, and you could tell he was a naturally rough person. His hair was dark brown, the shade that nearly every natural brunet had, yet marking a tasteful contrast against his sage-green eyes. Not only was he on the taller side, but it was clear that he had something to hide under that sleeve of his: a tattoo or scar, but nonetheless a mark that was meant to remain hidden. 

After shuffling around in his bag, his fingers settled onto a rectangular packaging, fiddling with the foiling to pop a piece of white square of gum into his mouth. 

Starting the tour, he first acquainted you with the area he was sitting in: the reception area. Frankly, it was a total mess: piles of papers littered the desks and surfaces behind the counter, dusty bookshelves full of files and records, and two rickety office chairs sat next to each other. 

As he walked you around the rest of the office, he tried to engage in some simple conversation, probably to ease the silence that had settled between you two. 

"Are you a student?" He asked, chewing his gum behind closed lips.

"Yeah, I'm in my third year, what about you?" you questioned, immediately fumbling over your words, "I mean, are you still in school or did you graduate?"

He smiled, surprised but grateful for your thoughtfulness. "I'm in my last year, but I'm an intern like you are." He paused a bit, running his hands through his dark hair, "I'm under Ukai, too; he picked me up last year like you."

Eyebrows slightly raised in interest, you questioned him again, "What's it like to work under him? Is he nice?"

"You haven't met him yet?" he asked, scoffing. "Didn't he interview you?"

You shook your head in response. "No, a different trainer interviewed me," you explained. 

He crossed his tanned arms over his seemingly muscular chest, the half-size-too-tight black polo shirt straining a bit over his features. He settled his shoulder onto the wall near a door, still facing you. His jaw slowly clenched occasionally, working the piece of gum between his teeth.

"He's a great guy, really chill, but sometimes he's really forgetful. Obviously," he chuckled, gesturing to you. "He's pretty young, but he really does care about his interns," his smile faltered a bit as he paused, intense dark green eyes staring downward into yours for just a second longer than you were comfortable with. His head tilted down ever so slightly, probably in an attempt to close the large distance between you to avoid anyone hearing. In a soft, almost concerning voice just above a whisper, he spoke his piece of advice, "Just don't do anything stupid. He's kicked interns out before."

You felt a warmth envelop your head at the close proximity to him, his eyes boring into you so deep as if he could see through you. The faintest smell of cinnamon and what you could only assume was his cologne permeated the air between you two. You quickly looked away toward the rest of the room. Iwaizumi must have read your nervous reactions because he pulled away from you quickly. 

"Are you okay? You seem a little on edge."

"Oh, no, I mean," you stammered, thinking of a decent excuse, "I was just thinking about how school just started up again and it kind of gets me really stressed, you know? Especially with this internship and everything."

He nodded, looking up at the ceiling, "Yeah, it gets a little stressful sometimes, but I'm sure you'll do fine." After you didn't respond, he glanced over at you again to still see the same nervous expression on your face. 

He pitied you a little, remembering his experience as a new intern. "Look, if you want to blow off some steam or whatever, my friend is having a smallish get-together before he leaves for Argentina. You should swing by if you want," he paused, gauging your reaction. "You could bring some friends if you'd like, but just keep it small."

Before you had a chance to answer to his offer, he pushed himself off from the wall and nodded his head toward the door. Following behind him through the long corridor, you considered the choice he gave you. Before you even reached the main waiting room, you decided you definitely needed some stress-relief, even if that meant going to an absolute stranger's farewell party.

Once he reached the end of the corridor, he slipped behind the counter again, momentarily crouching behind the short desk while he scribbled something down, peeling the layer of paper from the rest of the notepad. "The address," he announced, standing again and handing the note to you between two fingers, "it's actually tonight." The corners of his lips flicked upward to form a closed smile, one that was offered out of politeness and curiosity.

A Monday night? 

"I'll think about it," you stated as you grabbed the bright green note from his hand, "but what was your name again?" He stopped and looked at you, eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh, I didn't introduce myself? Sorry about that, I'm Iwaizumi Hajime," He forced out a laugh at his brashness, extending a hand for you to shake, which you gladly accepted. His hand was larger and rougher--cold from the freezing office--yet his grasp was gentle. Your eyes trailed around the now empty waiting room and then to the digital clock on the wall.

6:27 PM

"Oh my gosh, it's so late," you squeaked, drawing your hand away quickly and pulling out your phone to see a mountain of text messages, "I'm so sorry, but is there anything else you wanted to show me? I'm supposed to meet some friends for dinner." 

He yawned and stretched a bit, shaking his head. "Nah, that's about it. I'm sure you'll learn the rest of it with Ukai when you come in again," he explained as he started ushering you toward the door.

"Did you need any help doing anything else, like locking up?" You questioned, surprised at his abruptness to get you out the door.

"No, it's fine, I can lock up by myself. It was great meeting you, Y/N, I'll see you around," he offered a sheepish smile before softly securing the door in front of your face. 

"Thanks for the tour, Iwaizumi!" you called, raising your voice slightly in hopes he could hear it past the door. You stood in the entryway to the office, waiting for a response from him.

Click.

Sighing and walking away toward the building's exit, you stuffed the green paper into the back pocket of your jeans and pulled out your phone to scroll through messages to reply to the mountain of texts. Suddenly, buzzing surged through your phone and you hesitantly accepted it, just to be met with a hushed, agitated tone instructing you to rush over to the dining hall immediately.

"I'm coming, hold on," you breathed out, picking up your walking pace and promptly ending the call. The distance to the dining hall was short enough, but he's been sitting there since 6. Guiltily, you started to jog your way over to where you saw him sitting at a table, dressed in another one of his impossibly comfortable-looking sweaters, tufts of dark hair framing his face and black glasses perched on his nose before blue eyes.

"Where were you?" Akaashi inquired, eyeing you down and raising an eyebrow at your disheveled, slightly sweaty appearance. He closed his laptop and started clearing the space in front of him for you to set your things down.

"Sorry, my intern thing ran long," you apologized, plopping down with an exasperated huff as you attempted to fix your appearance. He slid a large bowl across the table, stopping it in front of you and gestured for you to start eating. You quickly obliged, unraveling the hot dish and started to dig in. "Where's Hitoka?"

"Well, I'm just glad you decided to actually go to it, especially after stressing over it all summer." he hummed, the corners of his lips curled upward to reveal a small smile, the ends of his eyes crinkling in humorous teasing, "And Hitoka said she got called in for work, so she's not coming."

You nodded in response, though still confused: it was unlike her to pick up extra shifts. "Of course I went, I can't afford to not go," you replied while popping a portion of your katsudon into your mouth. Frankly, it really was an opportunity of a lifetime. 

Setting down his cup again, he sighed, "I know, I know." As much as he made fun of you about your stressful existence, he couldn't help but feel immensely proud of you sitting before him, clad in the black polo shirt with the university's name and ATHLETIC DEPARTMENT embroidered over the front left side. 

"Anyway, how was your first day?" Akaashi quipped, eager to change the subject. 

You gulped down your favorite sports drink Akaashi bought for you. "Classes were fine and all, but the athletic trainer I'm working for wasn't there today, so that kind of sucked. What about you?"

A smile tugged at his lips once again as his face lit up in enjoyment as he talked. From the moment you met him, he was always very meticulous in everything he did: the way he needed all his notes in order before he could begin studying, how he absolutely had to make sure there were no smudges on his glasses at all times, stopping mid-sentence to clean them, and how he described everything--including his day--in great detail.

Likewise, you appreciated his happiness too; it was relieving to see his smile, especially since you never saw it often. He could spend days--weeks even--finishing long literary assignments and typing up journalism entries for class. In fact, you had to drag him out of his room numerous times just to make sure he was eating; he had a terribly unhealthy habit of overworking himself. 

"I just don't understand why we'd get such a big assignment so early...it's only the first day," he grumbled quietly.

"What kind of assignment is it?"

"It's an article we have to write on topics that were given to us," he sighed, bringing his cup of tea back to his mouth. "I got Japan's underground street racing." 

"Is that a bad topic or something?" you asked.

"It's not necessarily bad, but it's just out of my comfort zone--I mean, I have no idea where to even begin," he trailed off. 

You shrugged, not exactly knowing how to help him. "Maybe you could just search it up?"

"I tried doing that while waiting for you," he explained. Suddenly, he shot up in attention. "Speaking of which," he started, piercing blue eyes meeting yours, "could you do me a huge favor?"

"Depends what it is," you muttered, tipping the last of your beverage into your mouth, hesitant yet interested in what he had to say.

His eyes widened in excitement as he leaned toward you, resting his elbows on the edge of the table. "I came across a sketchy forum that mentioned a time and location for a race," he eyed you down cautiously. You knew where this was going.

"Akaashi." You groaned, not because you didn't want to accompany him, but more so because you were concerned about the legitimacy of the event. A public ad for a clearly illegal race? It couldn't be real.

"I just want to go to one," his eyebrows creased toward each other, begging you. "Just to see what it's like. You know, to write my article," he gestured to his closed laptop near his backpack sprawled over his side of the table, frowning ever so slightly. 

You sighed, seriously considering whether this was a good idea; Akaashi can definitely get reckless for a grade. Knowing him, he would go to the event with or without you; that's just how he was. 

"Okay, I'll go with you to check it out," you laughed lightly, amused as his tense body relaxed into the chair behind him. "But you have to come with me somewhere first."

--

Not only two hours later, you and Akaashi stood in front of the door to an apartment complex. With just enough time for both of you to trek back to your shared apartment and get ready for the night, you hadn't exactly spared the details to Akaashi about the party.

"How did you find out about this again?" he huffed, burying his pink-tinged nose back into his navy blue scarf, away from the biting cold that nipped at your skin. "And whose place is this?" he asked, his glasses fogging from his warm breath.

"My new coworker invited me," a puff of white escaped your lips and nose, "and don't worry about it."

"I don't want to stay for too long," Akaashi mentioned for the fifth time that night, "I have a 7am tomorrow."

"I know, I know, just a couple hours," you sighed, repeating the words he countlessly drilled into your head on the way here. You took out the crumpled green sticky note again, double checking if the cab driver dropped you both off at the right address. 

"Let's get inside," Akaashi breathed, eyes watching a group of young, probable university students as they stumbled up the short concrete steps into the building, obviously fresh from pregaming. 

Tugging on Akaashi's sleeve, you followed the group before you all the way up to the 7th floor, even squeezing into a small elevator with them. Once on the floor, they entered the apartment thumping with loud music furthest down the hallway that stretched to the left of the elevator. Just in case, you looked at the address Iwaizumi gave you earlier. Comparing the instructions to those written on the apartment complex's wall, you determined this was the place. 

Entering after the group before, you were surprised to see the apartment darkened and absolutely packed and blasting with music. A wave of heat rushed out through the door as you opened it, probably from all the bodies dancing in the middle of the living room. Didn't Iwaizumi say this was supposed to be small?

Without much time to take in the whole scene, you were shoved by another group of people behind you who were eager to get in, your body thrusted into the swarming pile of flesh in the middle of the room. Sweaty bodies surrounded you, pushing into you left and right as the smell of weed and liquor filled your lungs. Turning around, you were shocked to see Akaashi no longer behind you. You understood you lost him in the crowd, but it was absolutely disgusting to be in there completely sober. Fighting against the bodies toward the kitchen bar, you finally reached an area where you had some personal space. On your toes, you stretched up as high as you could to try to spot Akaashi. Maybe he would be somewhere in the crowd or next to the door?

"Hey, you're here!" A voice erupted next to your ear. You quickly turned to see Iwaizumi, slightly sweaty with a red cup in hand. His dark sage-colored eyes had an amused glint in them, surprised you actually came. Instead of the athletic department's uniform he was wearing in the office, he donned a black button-down shirt, sleeves messily rolled to just above his elbows, buttons near his neck sloppily undone to reveal the sharp angles of clavicles meeting his sternum. Like the black polo, this shirt was once again a half-size-too-small as you could easily see the outline of his biceps and chest muscles even in the dim lighting. You were taken aback by his presence, but thankful to recognize someone.

"Hey!" You answered back, shouting over the loudness. "I lost my friend in the crowd!"

"She's probably fine, but you should get a drink for her!" He shouted back, pointing in the direction of the kitchen with his drink in hand. He momentarily leaned closer to your ear, shouting a little softer, "I saw you come in with a guy, is he your boyfriend?"

"No, he's just a friend!" You shouted back. Iwaizumi made a confused face before fully bending down to your level, his head turned sideways so that his ear was near your lips. "He's-he's just a friend," you say, surprised at the sudden movement. You caught the faintest whiff of his cologne and the alcohol fanning from his breath. The close proximity didn't last long as Iwaizumi stumbled into you, the weight of him and another person nearly knocking you into the wall. 

Iwaizumi promptly shoved him off, lightly kicking his ass and sending the individual face-down into the ground.

"Iwa-chan," the brunet individual whined from the ground, peering over his shoulder to look at Iwaizumi through his bangs, "why are you being so mean?"

"Iwa-chan"?

Iwaizumi huffed, a look of frustration on his face as he ran his fingers through his dark hair, "Just get up already!" He grabbed the shirt and upper arm of the male on the ground, dragging him up and onto his feet. Once he regained his balance, the giddy, brunet male's brown eyes met yours.

"Oh? Iwa-chan, who's this?" He asked, a huge smile spreading across his pink cheeks. A bit taller than Iwaizumi, you felt a little cornered by these two men that looked down at you. The shirt he was wearing was a cheap light blue Hawaiian print shirt, all the buttons loose to reveal his toned torso, his external obliques looking especially accentuated as he rested his arm onto Iwaizumi's shoulder, the movement causing his shirt to rise slightly. An uncomfortable feeling made your stomach churn, your eyes darting away from the brunet only to find that most of the girls in the room were now looking at you. 

Iwaizumi looked at you first and stated your name in introduction, causing his friend to nod his head at you in greeting. "Y/N, this is Oikawa Tooru...he's the guy going to Argentina for volleyball."

Oikawa beamed at you, "It's great to finally meet one of Iwa's coworkers! I'm glad you could come by, let's go get some drinks!" He guided you into the kitchen, hand settling at the base of your back as Iwaizumi followed silently behind.

Once in the kitchen, Iwaizumi drank the last of whatever was in his cup before setting it down on the counter. "What do you drink?" Oikawa perked, eyeing you up and down as he opened the fridge to get some spirits.

"Anything, really," you laughed, "Can you make me something?"

A charming smile laced on his slightly pink face, Oikawa shot you a dazzling wink. "Sure, I'll make something I learned in Argentina," he looked from you to Iwaizumi, "Iwa-chan seems to like it a lot."

With matching drinks and red cups in hand, Oikawa urged you all to join plastic cups together with a dull clank, much to Iwaizumi's objection. Oikawa cheered a bit before you all downed the drink in one go. The three of you drank whatever idea came to mind, although most of the ideas only came from you and Oikawa. 

"Oikawa," you breathed after your fourth shot, the burning sensation tickling your upper chest and throat, "How did you end up playing for Argentina?"

He laughed a bit harder than you would consider normal before slinking an arm around Iwaizumi's neck. "I started playing pro after we graduated high school," he lazily gestured between himself and Iwaizumi. "Iwa-chan and I were always on the same team up until then."

"You played volleyball in high school?" You gasped, looking at Iwaizumi, who didn't meet your gaze but instead nodded, eyes glued to his empty shot glass.

"Yeah, Iwa-chan was the best!" Oikawa marveled to you, embracing Iwaizumi even closer, "He was our ace!" You figured Iwaizumi seemed like the kind of guy to have done sports in his youth just looking at his build. After all, he was practically oozing athleticism...but you never expected volleyball. Baseball, maybe.

"Okay, that's enough," Iwaizumi voiced sternly toward his friend, lightly nudging Oikawa's arm away from him, "it's gross."

"What?" Oikawa teased back, now making his way over to you, "Nothing wrong with being an ace." His brown eyes peered into yours from heavy-lidded eyes as his face inched closer to yours, pink lips slightly ajar forming a smirk. "What about you, hmm? Are you into aces? Or are setters more your type?" he whispered lowly.

His hot mouth was practically on your face as you could make out the tiniest amount of brazen flirtatiousness that dripped from his words, which clearly denoted an underlying meaning. Taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor, you backed away from him, offering a shy laugh in response. 

Oikawa hummed at your actions, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, "Guess not."

"Stop, you're making Y/N feel self-conscious," Iwaizumi boomed from behind Oikawa, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder to provide distance between you two.

"You mean unconscious," Oikawa piped back in response, slurring faintly.

"What?" Iwaizumi turned to look Oikawa dead in the eyes, half-laughing at Oikawa's misuse of the word. "That doesn't make any sense, idiot."

Sensing his friend still didn't understand what he meant, Iwaizumi's smile dropped from his face once he realized Oikawa was being serious. 

"Unconscious means, like, unresponsive--comatose," he said slowly, "Self-conscious means you're shy or whatever. Stupid-ass." Oikawa nodded at Iwaizumi's quick vocabulary lesson, waving his hand in front of his friend’s face in a dismissive motion before pouring more drinks for the three of you. 

After a while, you felt a good amount of the alcohol as it pumped through your body. You turned your head to Iwaizumi, a slight blush spread across his cheeks, nose, and ears. He caught your gaze and stared at you for a long time--long enough to make your sober self feel uncomfortable, but thanks to the alcohol, this time you didn't look away. 

"Y/N!" A voice erupted from the kitchen entrance, causing you to peel your eyes from Iwaizumi and toward the interruption. "I've been looking all over for you!" Akaashi exasperatedly came up to grasp your forearm, sweaty and huffing loudly. "We have to go--I completely forgot I had an assignment due in half an hour." 

Tired and tipsy, you leaned into his arm, "Akaaashiii," you wailed, "not yet!" Once he heard your intoxicated tone of voice, he looked up to see Iwaizumi and Oikawa looking at him. As he turned to ask you who these two men were that you were drinking with, Iwaizumi explained for you.

"I'm her coworker and he's hosting," he thumbed toward Oikawa, who was leaning over the counter with a sly grin.

Akaashi offered a polite smile and nodded before replying, "I'm her friend. And the guy who has to make sure she gets back home." His eyes fell back to you as you tugged him in closer and buried your face into his arm.

"Akaaashiii, I don't wanna leave yet," you whined before slumping down to the floor and scooting away from him, back pressed flush against the cabinets. Your shoulder hit something and you looked up to see Iwaizumi staring down at you. 

"Y/N, please, I just need to submit it," Akaashi groaned, attempting to grab your ankles but you lazily kicked his hands away, your body pushing further and further into Iwaizumi's leg. "Due in 30 minutes," he repeated, hands falling into his lap in defeat. The cab drive itself took about 20 minutes and he could submit it in under 5 minutes, but that meant he had to convince you to get off the floor, haul you downstairs, and call a cab all in less than 5 minutes.

"Just go," Iwaizumi looked at Akaashi, head nodding toward the door, "I can take her back."

Akaashi sighed and rose back to his full height to look at Iwaizumi. Even though he had a red cup in hand and there were dozens of glasses on the kitchen counter, it didn't seem like Iwaizumi had drank a whole lot. Still hesitant about letting a total stranger bring you home in your drunken state, Akaashi began to decline Iwaizumi's offer, even if it meant sacrificing his grade for that assignment. Akaashi couldn't leave you alone like that with two guys at this party, no matter what.

"We're coworkers, it's strictly professional," Iwaizumi urged, stepping closer to Akaashi and gently pushing his upper arm in the direction of the door. "Trust me, I'm the one who invited her to come anyway--and if anything happens, you can find me at the office." 

Not seeing any other option, Akaashi reasoned he could trust this guy. After all, you and he worked in the same office. "Strictly professional," he repeated Iwaizumi's words back to himself. He sighed and thanked Iwaizumi, offering a small smile to him and Oikawa before tapping you on your head on his way out, signaling his leave. 

"Let's keep going!" You chimed from the floor, Oikawa once again laughing for a bit too long. He started to make the three of you drinks again, but Iwaizumi nudged him before he could pour a third glass. Understanding his friend's gesture, Oikawa set the large bottle back down and handed you one of the two drinks.

"Y/N, be my partner for beer pong!" Oikawa gushed, grasping your hand as he led you out of the kitchen and to the far side of the living room where a small table had been set up for the game. 

A cold bottle of water in hand, Iwaizumi silently followed behind you two, settling down on a nearby chair that viewed the middle of the table. You and Oikawa were a dominating pair, smashing every single one of your opponents quickly. Even though you both were constantly winning, Oikawa insisted that you both match the shots that your opponents drank, occasionally drinking it for them. 

"That's not how you play." Iwaizumi hissed at Oikawa as his friend reached across the table to collect another opponent's cup. Oikawa rolled his eyes at his sober friend, swatting his concern away with his hand as he gave the cup to you. After countless games and drinks, your condition steadily kept getting worse and worse, until you found it hard to even keep the ball on the table.

It wasn't until you started referring to Oikawa as "Tooru" that Iwaizumi knew you were completely gone. The way you laughed with Oikawa, playfully hitting his arm or chest when you would win yet another round like you two had known each other for years. He knew his best friend always got loads of attention from everyone--especially at parties like these--but Iwaizumi didn't expect you to fall for Oikawa's charms so quickly, although he wasn't surprised either. His best friend had always been a social butterfly, instantly being able to connect with people immediately. It was a skill that Iwaizumi lacked for some reason, and he envied Oikawa for that.

"Let's dance instead!" Oikawa shouted over the thumping music, grabbing your hand and guiding you near the large group of bodies dancing, grinding, and pushing up on each other. As you two incorporated into the mass of people, only then did you realize that most of the girls in the room were constantly looking at you and Oikawa dancing together. It wasn't just curious glances, either; some girls were full-on staring you down. You felt uneasy, but Oikawa bent down to your ear, shouting, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom!"

You nodded, feeling more comfortable when the stares died down as soon as Oikawa left the scene. You continued dancing by yourself, perfectly happy and intoxicated, your body calmed and soothed by the booming bass. Firm hands grasped your waist from behind, a hot puff of breath lingering over your ear and traveled down to the base of your neck. 

"Dance with me," the deep voice muttered. Happy to have a dance partner again, you obliged, pushing yourself flush against his front torso and moving your hips ever so slightly against him. His hands ran up and down your sides, carefully squeezing and caressing your skin. You were fine with the movements, but began to feel his grip tighten around your hips, right arm stretching across your torso to your opposite hip, his left hand traveling up your stomach, to the base of your left breast. You quickly pushed his hand away, but his grip on you was hard, enough to bruise. He buried his head into the side of your neck, and you squirmed in his arms, shouting against the music, but the bass drowned your struggling screams. 

"Hey!" A voice rumbled next to you, and before you knew it, the man's body was ripped from yours. You stumbled forward, almost falling, and turned to see a large figure with dark hair, dressed in black with his back turned to you, confronting the man who was feeling you up from behind. "She's not into that," Iwaizumi hissed, shoving the man backward. He turned toward you, "Time to go." 

Immediately, he takes your wrist and leads you outside the crowd, which momentarily watched the commotion but resumed dancing. Once at the door to the apartment, he starts to open it but is met with your grip on his arm, your eyes meeting his.

"Wait, Iwa-chan," you whined, the nickname that only Oikawa ever used for him gliding out of your mouth made his eyes slightly widen, "I want to say bye to Tooru."

"'Tooru'? I don't even call him that." He sighed in frustration, looking down at your dazed appearance while urging you both out the door until he felt you bury your head into his arm.

"Please," you whined softly. He took a deep breath, eyebrows knit together as he ran tense fingers through his hair in frustration. 

"Fine, let's look for him."

Iwaizumi led you through the apartment, hand carefully wrapped around yours as he opened various doors, weaving in between people and navigating the layout through the dim lighting. He opened the door to the bathroom, which was closed but surprisingly unlocked, to find Oikawa fully clothed in the tub, snoring loudly. Iwaizumi initially froze at the sight, then stepped closer to wake his friend with a firm slap across his thigh, leaving a pink imprint of a hand.

Oikawa grunted awake at the impact, wide brown eyes meeting Iwaizumi's olive ones. Oikawa then sheepishly smiled at his friend, trying to pull him in for a hug. Iwaizumi groaned, almost disappointed at his friend. "Party's over," Iwaizumi muttered to Oikawa, who wailed in response.

Hand still grasping your wrist, Iwaizumi pushed you onto the closed toilet lid to sit. "Wait here," he instructed before heading out the bathroom door and shutting it on his way out. Moments later, the thumping music came to a stop, followed by groans of objection. You turned to look at Oikawa, sleeping soundly in the tub again. Iwaizumi returned to the bathroom about 2 minutes later, water bottles and Pedialytes in hand. 

He tossed you a Pedialyte and water. "Drink," he instructed to you, before turning to his friend and waking him up again.

"Mmm," Oikawa groaned, pushing away Iwaizumi's hand that was lifting the Pedialyte to his  mouth. You could have sworn a vein popped in Iwaizumi's neck as he groaned in frustration before forcing Oikawa's mouth open, feeding the bottle to him like a dog. Half frightened at the sight of Iwaizumi forcing Oikawa's mouth open, you quickly opened your Pedialyte bottle and began to drink up. 

One foot in the tub, Iwaizumi struggled to hoist Oikawa up and over his shoulder. He walked out of the bathroom, you slowly trailing behind him as he kicked open the door to Oikawa's bedroom. He slammed Oikawa onto his bed, not caring if he woke up. His eyes shot open at the sudden sensation of falling, and his eyes focused on Iwaizumi, who was already working to get most of Oikawa's clothes off. Unbuttoning his pants, Iwaizumi pulled off the fabric in a swift motion, which left Oikawa gasping at the sudden cold as he reached to cover his flowery boxers with a blanket. 

"Okay, that should be it," Iwaizumi panted, leaning up from the bed and looked toward you. You were still very drunk, but the water helped sober you up a little bit. The room was spinning as you made your way over to the bedside.

"Bye, Tooru," you sang softly, patting Oikawa's shoulder, "have fun in Argentina." 

His eyes fluttered open in response, "Thanks, Y/N, keep Iwa-chan company." Oikawa drifted to sleep slowly after, Iwaizumi promptly turning off his friend's light and grabbing your wrist again before leading you both out of the now-empty apartment and toward the elevator.