Okay so, dear diary. It’s currently 9.45pm and I am sitting in my room while my friends are out there partying at Bryce’s. And you might think that I regret having said what I said to Heather in the dining hall because I could be out there with them now.

I could be dancing, maybe even getting high with Ben. But instead, I am here in my room listening to Lana Del Rey's albums on repeat while eating my whole fridge, overthinking everything I said before. Blame it on my moon sign, I don’t care.

And you know what? This is fine. I do genuinely believe this is fine and I’m totally not checking snapchat and instagram every five minutes to see what’s new.

I know that hypothetically it is not too late to show up there (not that I would want that). I could show up with a bottle of some cheap wine I bought at the gas station and apologize to Heather and her friends saying that I didn’t mean what I

said.

I could just say that I’m on my period and thus so short tempered and I bet you my car that the guys would go all “my poor girl, I totally understand” on me.

But you know what? Fuck an apology. I’m not sorry for anything I said.

It’s the truth. I cannot stand Bryce's annoying, sexist ass and Heathers pick me attitude. And I’m not even on my period.

I honestly do not even know why I care so much about going. I’ve been to what feels like a million high school parties before and to be honest I didn’t like any of them in particular.

But I still care. I always care about everything too much and I’m so sick of it. If anyone ever finds a cure that makes you care less, hit me up.

Also, I miss Jaxon a lot lately. Sometimes I wonder if I should just spontaneously drive to California and knock at his door.

And there are moments where I’m standing in front of my mirror all “do it, I bet you won’t coward” with that random spark of motivation at 1am to get my life together right this second.

Maybe I should actually start doing things spontaneously and stop procrastinating.

But then I start wondering about what the hell I would say when I actually met him.

“Hi Jax. So, I know I took your heart, tore it apart, threw it in the mud and stomped on it, put in in the mixer and made a whole ass smoothie out of it but I miss you. You were the only best friend I ever had. I feel lonely and I love you, please let’s just be friends again and forget how much of a cunt I’ve been. Also, I think I might have fallen in love with an emo guy who’s underweight, sickly pale and in love with someone else.”

Okay, never mind. I don’t think this is a good idea. I sound pathetic.

You know what I am going to do for the rest of the night? Drown myself in self-pity even though I am so not the victim here. But who cares. It’s my party and I cry if I want to, right?

Anyway, I’ll be back with another episode of my miserable life in probably a few days.

Okay, who am I kidding. Cya tomorrow.

3 hours later:

Okay so about that pity party thing. You did in fact plan on sticking to your mission, but of course you ended up doing something entirely different because you’re a hypocrite and the clown in this story. Surprise shorty!

Anyway, so guess what you were doing right now. If you said driving to the party at nearly 2am then you were absolutely right. Ding, ding, ding! Won all the money!

Listen, of course there was an understandable and adequate explanation to why you were doing this because quite obviously you wouldn’t be going to this party only because you lost self-control and went completely crazy. Nah-ah. Why would you even think that? That is so not you at all.

You were pitying yourself till about 10.30 when you finally got bored of it. It was still early so you decided to put on a movie.

You chose a horror even though you knew that you wouldn’t be able to sleep afterwards. But because you are stupid, never learn from your mistakes and like torturing yourself you did it anyway.

You nearly shitted your pants, got a heart attack, woke up your parents who were both home for once, ripped your teddy bear apart by the time the movie finally ended.

When you went downstairs to make yourself a tea you were paranoidly turning around searching for the demons hiding in the cabinets every five seconds.

You nearly spilled half of it when sprinting upstairs after switching off the lights and you could have sworn you set a new speed record to running. Usain Bolt and Lighting McQueen combined could never.

Back in your room you turned on your TV once again and started rewatching Brooklyn Nine-Nine another time because number one: it was very comforting. Number two: this show couldn’t surprise you anymore after having watched it four times already. And number three: Jake Peralta and Rosa Diaz are hot.

After three or four episodes you must have fallen asleep, surprisingly. And your bed felt amazing.

And I want you to understand that there are days where your bed feels simply amazing. And there are days when it feels bewildering, breathtaking, sensational, spectacular, extraordinary, mind-blowing, flabbergasting (I could go on and on, but I think you got what I mean).

Today was one of the days when it felt like all this. Maybe because of your multiple mental breakdowns before and the fear caused by the movie. But the sleep was incredible.

Until a call from Rodrick interrupted it.

You didn’t pick up.

Not because you didn’t feel like it but because you haven’t heard it. You know light sleepers? Yah well, you we’re not one of them.

It took another 4 missed calls until you were slowly spawned back into reality and woke up. And let me tell you, you weren’t happy when you heard that you needed to pick up your five black out drunk friends from the party you said you wouldn’t attempt.

You've got dressed.

And even though it was like 1.30am you did put an amazing outfit together.

You wanted to show up at that party looking like you just left another one. A better one.

You certainly didn’t want to look like you just spent a depressing Tuesday night at home. I mean you did but no one has to know.

You were wearing a black miniskirt, a black matching top, black mesh stockings, your black boots and a black leather jacket. Yes, everything in black. So what? You looked like one of those rockstar girlfriends and you loved it.

You knew you weren’t dressed appropriately for the weather but who cares. A bad bitch is never cold.

Leaving your house, you left a small note for your parents informing them on where you were going just in case they would wake up and wonder where you were. Which was pretty unlikely since they weren’t exactly light sleepers either. But you know, a note just in case.

You locked the door and entered your car, locking it immediately. You checked the backseats and the trunk quickly because you are a little paranoid and well – a girl.

Everything safe.

Throwing your bag on the passenger seat you put on some music, not too loud though since loud noises in the middle of the night after just being woken up are decently triggering.

Then you drove off with your windows slightly pulled down. The roads were empty. It felt fucking amazing. You felt alive.

Fuck, if you didn’t need to pick up your friends you would have probably driven to California and visited Jaxon.

It was a 20 minutes' drive to Bryce's. It wasn’t hard to spot the house. The millions of cars parked in this area giving it away immediately.

You were pissed that you needed to park so far away but there was really nothing you could do here.

You grabbed your bag, stuffed in the pepper spray that was laying in the cubby, put on a pair of sunglasses on your hair to look mysterious and unavailable and left the car locking it.

It was a seven minutes' walk and by the time you entered the house your feet hurt. Yes, I know, our physical condition is something we still need to work on but let’s just live, laugh, love for a second, won't we?

The house looked like every single one in this shithole of a town. White house, white picket fence – the typical American Dream. Where are the parents with their two and a half children and their golden retriver dog?

The front yard was, ignoring the empty cans and bottles, empty – because it was certainly not very warm outside.

The door was unlocked and when you stepped inside the stinging smell of alcohol, weed and clearly not enough oxygen hit you like a truck.

You felt like throwing up. That shit was disgusting. Pray for the host of the party when his parents see what he made to the house.

There was surprisingly still a ton of people here and loud music was drilling from what you assumed to be the living room.

On your way through the hallway that was longer than Candice’s neck you passed 3 couples making out heavily, one guy laying unconsciously on the floor, one girl on a call screaming at someone and a dude sniffing cocaine. A typical Tuesday night one’s might assume.

You moved faster, the life action porn making you slightly uncomfortable as you finally arrived in the comparatively huge room where you spotted Rodrick and Chris almost immediately.

They were dancing. Together. Slowly. To a fast song. Interesting.

“Hi love birds, hate to interrupt your intimate moment, just wanted to let you know I’m here” you spoke as you walked over, tapping both of them on their shoulder.

“Y/N! You’re here!” they both spoke enthusiastically, simultaneously.

Rodrick broke away from Chris and threw himself around your neck. You nearly tripped but laughed as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. He mumbled a few words that you couldn’t understand, his breath tingling your neck making you pull away slightly.

“Feel like going home already?” you asked softly as he looked at you, swaying both of you unconsciously to the beat of the music. He nodded.

“You are the prettiest girl in this party Y/N” he said quietly leaning down, as if telling you a secret. You burst out in laughter. He was beyond drunk.

“How did you get here Rodrick?” you asked, seeing he was still standing and awake, which wouldn’t last a long time.

You were pretty sure he didn’t even have that much to drink. Rodrick was just a lightweight.

“We went on foot because we all wanted to get wasted and knew right from the start that you would be the one to pick us up” he answered brutally honest as you slapped his arm insulted.

“I hate you” you said.

“You love me” he answered almost immediately.

“You know” he mumbled pulling you into his chest. “I was practicing this snail pace dance with Chris for you” he spoke with his eyes now closed as you looked up at him confused.

“Me? And why is that?” you asked amused.

“Your playlist on spotify with that funny 16th century picture. These two people dancing. The one you named slow dancing in the back of a ballroom. I want to do that with you someday” he said barely still awake, leaning his head on yours.

You were speechless, your heart rate increasing in a matter of seconds. I swear this sounds so kitschy but it was incredibly cute.

You looked up at him. You were blushing but weren’t stressing about it, knowing he wouldn’t notice in his state.

“That’s adorable” you whispered running your hand through his hair, shaping it a little.

“All your dreams” Rodrick said again. “I want them to become real. I want to be a part of them. You are so pretty Y/N. I missed you."

Now that was it. The closest you would ever get to love. You never felt the things you feel for Rodrick for anyone else before. You were in love. You knew that before but now you were sure. And this thing. Between him and you. It’s either going to turn out as the greatest love story you’ll ever experience or the biggest heartbreak.

One you would probably never completely get over.

“Fuck Rodrick, I wish you were sober” you whispered drawing lines with your nails on his back as you stood there in comfortable silence before he mumbled a quiet “me too”.

You stood there for another good ten minutes swaying silently to the upbeat music before being interrupted by Chris.

“Dude, Jake retched out his guts and is laying on the floor” he tapped on Rodrick’s shoulder. The boy looked at him as if he didn’t know what to do with that information.

You pulled away from Rodrick and straightened your clothes remembering what you came here for originally.

“Rodrick and Chris, I want you to go get Jake and wait with him in the front yard. Can you do that for me? I will go find Mads and Ben meanwhile and see you there in around 15 minutes” you commanded as both of them nodded their heads, listening right away, heading to the bathroom.

They were both barely still standing and you knew it would be a miracle if they actually made it outside.

“Good” you whispered to yourself, not knowing where to start searching for Maddie and Ben. The house was huge but not a labyrinth so there was no need to stress. Yet you were a little nervous.

It’s like you were responsible for everyone and to be honest, it wasn’t exactly something you were dreaming of.

Because believe it or not, being sober doesn’t automatically make you a responsible person.

You watched as the guys wabbled away like one of those cartoon ducks before turning around attempting to search for your friends. But you didn’t get far.

A tall person blocked your way and it took you all your reflexive instincts to not bump into them.

You looked up at the guy who was looking down at you amused, a spark of danger shimmering in his eyes. You immediately felt your heart rate speeding up. You were in a lot of trouble.