Booze. Drugs. Music.

The unholy trinity of all parties.

I inch closer to the stairs, making slow progress through the hubbub.

Christ, this music is killing me.

"Turn it up! " Someone howls.

I wince as the fifth replay of 'Sing' blasts through the speakers. The skeleton of the house reverberates ever so slightly. My soul itches to be free of the stench of sweat, the noises clawing through my mind and the repressing crowds. I glare at the staircase, determined to search for the girl who plunged me into this hellhole of a graduation party. As expected, I find her leaning against her bedroom door, beckoning a man with a simple notion of a finger. Freezing, I shut my open mouth, hoping to avoid her line of sight.

Really? Another guy? Just after her break up? My thoughts wander to the fleeting memory of an innocent adolescent, blissfully unaware of her insatiable sexual appetite after the incident. A few years difference truly decides whether shit hits the fan or not.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Aya purrs, sashaying closer to her victim, arms outstretched. She embraces him and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Aya!" I hiss, taking a step forward.

She lazily winks at me.

The man lets out a chuckle, the sort of chuckle naughty children deserved.

"My apologies," the man cheerfully replies. "But I'm afraid you've interpreted my advances the wrong way."

Aya's face flushes, she takes a step forward.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" She snarls, morphing from whimsical seductress into incandescent harpy.

"I merely wanted to have a pleasant conversation, but it seems that you thought I wanted to have sex with you. How shallow." He explains slowly, stoking the rage inside Aya. "Additionally, I find you rather ugly."

"You piece of shit!"

There were a few things you never say to Aya. He just said both of the worst. Nonchalantly.

"Aya!" I repeat and move in front of the man. "Stop!"

She pauses, warily gazing at me. Venomously, she asks. "Why?"

"Take a break." I sigh. "You need a break, out of all people."

Her anger evaporates somewhat, leaving disappointment as the dregs. She shakes her head and prowls back into her den. I exhale in relief. I turn to face the man.

"Whatever you do, don't say shallow or ugly in her face ever again," I say, glaring deep into his charcoal eyes that were slightly slanted, hinting Oriental descent. I then notice the rest of his physical features.

Alabaster skin, the paleness bordering to sickness. The colour of his straight hair is identical to his inquisitive eyes, black, soft as sin. My eyes lower down to his perfectly sculpted lips, pale as his skin.

His face is symmetrical. God, what about his -

"Of course, Vida." He acknowledges, and shoots me a smile. A smile I could immediately identify as fake. My insides coil up. The effects of his charm quickly wear off as I sharply nod and return to the ground floor, texting Aya.

Who is he?

Some transfer student taking art nxt yr at the same uni as us

Cringing, I stop and collide against someone.

"Sorry!" My feeble attempt at an apology earns me a 'Fuck off' from the stranger. I glance back at my phone screen, unfazed from the hostility.

Lucky you! Aya continues. You get a hot guy for painting :( betcha got another one for physiology

Don't be ridiculous. Just because I'm going to take two courses doesn't mean my classmates are going to be attractive males.

HMPH! :3

Aya? What is it?

I receive no reply immediately. A tell tale sign that she really isn't going to tell me anything. I inwardly scowl and send her another text.

This party was shit. Don't bang anything that walks on two legs or gives you STDs. Call me if you need anything. Ttyl.

It's getting late. Best to leave now before my parents realize I've broken my curfew. I slip my phone into my jacket pocket. My fingers bump into a fold of material. Paper?

I take the note out and read it.

The ink is somewhat smudged, but the writing is legible, albeit somewhat crooked.

Thank you

I smile and walk out of the house, grateful for the cool sensation as the wind tickles my face. A drunk mistake.

Next time, Aya needs to restrict the alcohol limit for her partyers.