"Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. Except they don't, because they're flaming balls of chemical combustion that render your existence ultimately meaningless."

"I wonder if they're gonna fuck," she says, absentmindedly staring at a passing couple headed into the bedroom down the hall. Music blares around us, and lights flash all along the ceiling, spreading the hectic atmosphere.

A drunken giggle reaches my ears, and the girl slumped against my side gazes up at me with a wide smile and dull eyes, and despite the fact that I really ought to help her to the bathroom before she covers me with the insides of her dinner and the last four beers she's had, I can't help but recoil slightly. There's gum plastered across her hair, and she lets out another sudden burst of slurred laughter, twirling her hair around her fingers. I fold my hands tightly in my lap, and pull my arms a little closer to my body. She slips her arms around my shoulders, and I can smell the liquor as she breathes down my neck. She sighs, brushing a stray hair from my forehead, she says, "You what would be really stupid, right now? We should make out, like, literally right now."

I attempt to extricate myself from her arms, unsure of how to respond, and she looks up at me expectantly, "Come on, make out, let's."

I smile nervously at her, anxious to leave this painfully awkward situation, but she traces my leg with her fingers, "You know, you're kinda skinny..." She giggles again, sighing again and leaning back against the armrest of the couch, "I think it's... I think it's really cute!" She laughs even harder, spilling a little of her fifth beer over my jeans. I wince slightly; These are new. She throws her head back, turning to look at me, "Hmmm, well, is it going to happen or not?"

I try and stand, but her legs are still draped over mine, "Come on, just this one time. I don't even really know you, but really, just tonight? Mmmh?" I draw my head back slightly, pursing my lips a little, "Um, yeah, I don't think-"

"Because honestly, you're like, really hot." she starts to lean slightly towards me again, "You know that? You're really, really hot." She giggles yet again, raising her eyebrows at me. Uncomfortable with her being this close, I untangle our legs and stand slowly, using the coffee table for support, "Listen, uh, what's your name, Britney, I, I uh-"

She shifts into a sitting position, "Yeah, my name's really not Britney."

Oh. I smile painfully, trying to remember her name, "Ashley?"

She looks at me, embarrassed, and raises her eyebrows, "Lindsey. You were close, though! It's all the 'eeh's and the 'ah's and the 'ooh's."

She's clearly intoxicate, so I scratch my head, looking around the room, "Listen, Lindsey, you're really great, but I just... I'm just not really ready for-"

"Oh no, this isn't one of those relationship kinds of things, I'm just talking about sex right now." Before I know it, she's stood up and we're inches apart, she's breathing on me again. I hate it when people breathe on me, it makes me feel uncomfortable close to them, I've always hated it when people do that.

"You know, it's late, we're at a party, can't you just..." She gestures vaguely into the air, "Let go for a little?"

She tries to wrap her arms around me again, but I step back, "Listen," I say, "Lindsey, please, I really don't want to-"

She buries her head in my chest, sighing into my shirt, "Mm? Come on, just a little, don't be such a little bitch, Phil, come on." She brings her hands around my neck and pulls me towards her, but I really don't want this, she's starting to scare me a little, "No, really, please. I'm alright, please just leave me alo-"

As I try to back away, she follows me, arms around my shoulders and inches away from me, "But you're so..." she fumbles around in her head for the word, "pretty, you're really fucking pretty, you know that? Come on, just let me have a little taste."

I stumble backwards, trying to escape her grip, "No, stop it! Let me go!" I manage to wrestle my way out of her arms and I slip away, moving as fast as I can away from her. In the background I hear her whine, her voice facing slightly as I stride away, "Oh, don't be like that! Stop being such a baby, I was only looking for a kiss!"

Breathing heavily, I flatten myself against the wall near the sliding patio door, trying to ease my heartbeat. Just to be absolutely confident, I check to make sure she's not following me, and I'm a little more relived than I care to admit to see that she's draped herself all over some other guy sitting in the leather armchair. I pull open the patio door, eager to get some fresh air and to escape the stuffy, overcrowded atmosphere. To be honest, I don't even know why I decided to come here, I don't even like house parties at all, they make me so nervous. The friend I came with (or rather, forced me to go by consistently bugging me, Robin, is currently red faced, drunk, laughing his ass off in the kitchen while playing a drinking game with his friends, and completely and utterly ignoring me. I don't have very good taste in friends, but then again, I shouldn't complain. I'd do the same thing if I was friends with me, probably.

I slip through the open patio door, and run to the railing, looking out at the valley. It's really quite an expensive house, I think while tapping my fingers against the aluminum railing. It's one of those railings where the top is metal and the entire rest is glass, making it look like it's jumped right out at me from the pages of a real estate magazine. The sun's gone down ages ago, and I can see the dull blur of the horizon, barely contrasting against the ashen sky. The wind ruffles my hair slightly, and suddenly I get this twisty feeling in my stomach, I realize the true extent of how lonely I am. Look at me, being all dramatic, wouldn't Mother be so proud. I smile, letting my head fall down a little, I wish I could be anywhere but here.

You know, I don't think any of my 'friends' like me, not really. I'm always that one person that no one invites, I'm the 'don't let him hear about the party, but don't tell him he can't come, I don't want him to think we don't like him. We don't though, really.' I'm the 'oh, we don't have enough money for all the movie tickets... would you mind waiting outside for us, Phil?'. I'm the 'oops, we forgot to tell you, sorry about that...'

I'm the one that has to walk behind the others on the sidewalk, the one that nobody invites out, the one that always ends up texting first, doing homework in return for friendship, fetching books from empty classrooms and coming back to find that they've all left. I'm the last invitation to the party, the one that's bent enough from being sit on four times and all stained from coffee and so beaten up that they were too embarrassed to send it to anyone else, I'm the 3am call to please pick me up because everyone else is asleep. I'm the ugly prom date senior year that one of the girls asked because her friends wouldn't stop teasing her and she was fed up, I'm the joke that no one laughs at, and as I stand here leaning against this railing, all I can think is that I'm so fucking lonely.

A girl, someone I don't know with dyed blonde streaks, tattoos, and eyeliner thick enough to rival Pete Wentz walks out onto the patio, smoking a cigarette. I turn to look at her, frowning at the smoke drifting up into the sky.

"You know those things will kill you, right?" I say casually, gesturing to the cancer stick dangling from her lips. She takes it out of her mouth and looks at me, her eyes raking up and down my body. Without saying anything, she puts it back in her mouth, puffing a little cloud that drifts above my head. How fitting. She smiles at me through the cigarette, "I know." She smiles even wider, and fishes around in the pockets of her ripped jeans. Eventually, she pulls out a whole box of marlboro, making quite a show of pulling one out and offering it to me, "Want one?"

I wrinkle my nose at the thing, no, I don't want to smoke, no thank you, I wouldn't mind dying too much, but it's a really fucking dumb way to go. She raises her eyebrows,"You sure?" but I shake my head again and she laughs, coming to lean beside me against the railing.

"You know, you're smart, being out here, there's a terrible mess inside. Some of the freshmen decided to make this whole satanic ritual thing on the carpet, there's this entire pentagram burned into the floor now." She takes another long drag of her cigarette, twirling the smoke in the air, "Fucking college, man, whoo." she laughs again, "I'm telling you, it really sucks to be whoever's house this is. You sure you don't want one?" she nods to the pack of cigs again, but I shake my head, and she heads back inside, still puffing on that stick of hers.

I sigh, and stare up at the sky, I wonder if the stars get lonely too. All alone, millions of miles apart and no way to talk. This is, of course, assuming that stars can talk. Jesus, this metaphor is getting old quickly. Is it a metaphor? Oh, fuck it, whatever it is.

I'm gazing up at the stars and I remember, there's supposed to be a meteor shower tonight. I'd forgotten, not that I really care about it that much. I sigh and drag a folding chair over from the wall, setting it up against the railing to watch. Sure enough, the stars begin to drop as quickly as a just-announced Panic! At The Disco album, and I can't hell but notice one in particular, one that shines just a little duller than the others, just like me. That one. That one's mine.