Keith has a piece of paper with his schedule printed on it inside his empty notebook when he walked inside his Physics class that morning. Pidge is already there, on the corner seat by the window, feet propped up onto the desk as she fiddles with her tablet. Hunk is nowhere in sight. He notices a few fresh faces he's never seen before at the rows behind him, but the class is crowded enough that nobody barely bats an eye at Keith. Only Pidge sits on the front row, the other new students already found their places among the crowd. He slides next to her quietly, pulling out all his notes as she tsk-ed at something on her screen. As soon as he sits down, Pidge begins complaining about the other kids and how noisy they're being, and then grumbling things Keith couldn't make out, like some sort of engineering term. She has her hair tied into a rather neat ponytail today, and her clothes are less scruffy and more… preppy. Her glasses are a little low on her nose, and Keith has to resist pushing it up for her.

"Oh, my brother woke up earlier today, so he helped me prepared. He's really fussy, sometimes I feel like cutting my hair short so he'd shut up." Pidge explains, pushing her glasses up with her index finger after Keith had unconsciously said his thoughts out loud. "Do you have an older brother?"

"Yes, actually." Keith says. "He likes to embarrass me and make me do stuff I don't want to."

"I think it's written somewhere in an older brother handbook that they have to humiliate their younger siblings to survive."

Keith chuckles, an easy smile spreads across his face. "Where's Hunk?"

"He's not taking this class, so you're stuck with me, sorry." Pidge says, pulling out her textbooks. A few sheets of paper shoot out as she pulls the book from her bag and flies around in disarray, and Keith notices the exaggerated amount of post-its on every page of her worn-out book. "Shit, dang it."

"Do you like physics?" Keith asks while helping Pidge collecting her notes.

"I just happen to be really good at it,"

Keith rolls his eyes. He gives the papers to Pidge who muttered thanks in gratitude.

"So, how's your second week her in AZ? You getting along fine, cowboy?"

Keith opens up his mouth to say that of course he's fine, it's just his first few weeks here and he's still figuring out the ropes. But by the time he's able to get the words into his head, what comes out of his mouth is entirely different. "Do you know any Lance?"

Pidge audibly groans, her body slumping into the desk before her and she tousles her own hair. "What a way to ruin a perfectly good morning,"

"What? Why? What did I do?" Keith snaps, a little offended.

"So, he's back, huh?" Pidge blows away a stray stand of her bangs.

Keith turns to her fully, a deep frown in his brows. Judging from her reaction, Pidge must've known Lance, or at least has been in close proximity with him. "Do you hate him that much?"

"I don't – " Pidge bristles, her body straightens up as she tries to explain. "I don't hate him, it's just that – " She's being interrupted by the sound of a door opening up, a female professor appears from behind it carrying books and a week worth of materials against her chest. The other kids scramble back into the desks around him, and soon it stops being so noisy inside the class. Keith keeps his eye on Pidge but she doesn't continue, merely shaking her head.

"Look," she says in a quiet voice. "You'll find out eventually."

Keith pulls his lips into a pout and twists his body back facing the front. He feels embarrassed – and nervous, then frustrated with himself. He's been in this city for what, two whole weeks and his mind are already wondering about a stupid guy. He shouldn't be allowing himself to get all smitten when he doesn't even know who Lance is. The smallest tweak of disappointment tugs at his heart. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts together and writes down the materials on his little note.

Keith doesn't really like physics but he's not bad at it like he thought he is. After almost thirty minutes of hearing the teacher talks and points out her presentations, Keith is bored out of his mind. He looks down at his schedule to check what his next class is and where when a piece of paper is shoved in his part of the desk. He peeks at Pidge, but she refuses to make eye contact. The professor is busy tearing through her materials as she clicks through her presentation without so much of a care in the world.

Keith reaches for it and flips the paper to the opposite side and sees the small written letters on it.

Lance is the campus sweetheart. he was supposed to be a sophomore now but he holds out a year

Keith uncaps his pen and writes down his reply underneath the letters with bright red ink.

Why?

He drags the paper to Pidge's side with two of his fingers and continues to pay attention to the lecture. His reply comes about five minutes later.

He doesn't really come to class. He plays a lot. His grades r ok I guess but he's lazier than a sloth on hibernation
look, better not associate with that ass, ur a scholarship student ffs

Keith answers with a :( and the note stops.

A hundred and ninety torturous minutes later, Keith forces all his books and notes inside his bag with newfound determination. "What's your next class?" he asks.

"I have French." Pidge says aloofly, messing with her tablet yet again. Keith sends her a dubious look.

"What?" She barks. "I can't take astrophysics and French?"

"Uh… to each their own I guess." Keith says, poking the bulge in his bag. "Then I suppose I'll see you tomorrow?"

"We'll see each other at Monday. Until next time, emo kid."

"What – hey!" But Pidge is already making her way outside the door when Keith yells her name. He self-consciously brings his hand to his hair and smooths them against it. "I'm not emo," he mutters as he exits the class.

Upon entering his next class, he notices that without Hunk and Pidge, he sits all by himself in the front row. He swears he hears someone muttering something about 'scholarship track' and 'smartass' and it's directed right at him, but when he spins around, a dozen or more pair of eyes are watching him like a predator watching his prey and he feels his gut sinks. Quietly Keith turns his back to everyone else and resumes taking notes on whatever bullshit Mr. Kaltenecker is spewing.

Keith doesn't fully understand Pidge's odd animosity directed at Lance until the destined Friday night. Shiro got back home at the same time Krolia went off to work, late enough that Keith considered sleeping on until morning rolls around. He passes through Keith working through his previous material in the living room and Keith notices for the first time a dark smudge stain on his sleeve, and some sort of dirt around his cheek. Then he dips completely out of his view, making his way to the kitchen.

"Did you work today?"

Keith hears a clatter of cabinet opens and closing before Shiro answers. "Yeah."

"Don't you have class tomorrow?"

"Not really, not on Saturday."

"Hmm." Keith hums and resumes his review. As it turns out, college math isn't very fun. It's hard for Keith to stay focused on the matter. Plus, he's getting a little sleepy with all the long classes he has today. Something needs to happen or he's just going to fall asleep. Shiro plops down on a couch behind him, popping out a bottle of canned beer. "Do you think I should go find a work too?"

"No, Keith. Not until you're a senior, at least."

Keith mulls over it and he begins to count a tally on his fingers. "I can manage my studies just fine."

Shiro sighs. "Keith, listen. I was threatened to have my scholarship discontinued a year ago because I thought I'd be able to work and keep up my grades at the same time. I can't imagine you doing that. Please just listen to mom for now,"

"Rude ass." Keith mouths.

"Let's just get some sleep, kiddo. We could talk about this some other time." Shiro says, tipping the can and finishing the beer in a few gulps before slamming it against the table. Keith is just about to agree when he could hear angry loud music playing from outside, ensued by some muffled cheers and screams. Both him and Shiro pauses. It comes from the house next to theirs. Lance's house. Shiro stands up and peeks through the crack on the curtain before Keith follows the gesture.

"Is he – is that a party?" Keith says in disbelief, watching the flickering lights of purple and blue hue glowing just outside of their house. He's never been to a house party before.

"Seems like it," Shiro says to him.

It's too loud – the music, the screaming – Keith knows he won't be able to get any sleep at this rate. "Should we do something? Call the police?"

"What the – Keith, are you for real?"

"It's 30 minutes past eleven, Shiro. It's late." Keith reasons, the beating of the bass gradually making him dizzy.

"Yeah, but, it's Friday night. In college this kind of thing isn't weird, you know? We should just talk it out with them, try to come out with an agreement or something. Lance seems like a nice guy,"

Keith blushes at the mention of Lance. At the thought of seeing Lance again. "Well… I guess." He peeps outside once more, noting the crowd of people loitering the front yards and suddenly remembering the kids from his class and their unkind words. "But we should. We should look cool. So they wouldn't think we're losers, or something."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just – Just go get something nice to wear." Keith mutters before pushing his brother up the staircase and to his room. Fast forward to thirty minutes later and Keith has on his favorite deep burgundy leather jacket and his signature fingerless gloves. Shiro wears his high school's football team jacket and a washed out ripped jeans. Keith isn't impressed.

"What? You're the one who look like you're about to go into a bar fight," Shiro says defensively. Keith huffs.

"Let's just get this fucking over with." He produces dark-tinted shades from his bag and put in on to emphasize his bad boy look, even though Shiro honestly think his little brother is just trying too hard. He slips into his boots and ignoring Shiro's comment of "yeah, you don't look suspicious or anything" and opens up the doors. As they cross the yard, they spot a group of tattooed girls stand in a circle just by the alleyway smoking what Keith swears isn't cigarette and laughing loudly at something one of them said. As Keith walks pass them, they sideway squint at the siblings before minding their own business once again.

Just in front of the porch, a guy and a girl who are making out hotly and every few seconds one of them would cope a feel at where Keith thinks almost inappropriate. He could see the two of them have a red paper cup each on their hand that's not too busy groping each other. Behind the lovers, a cluster of boys – fucking frat boys looking assholes – stand pressed against the wall. One of them notices Shiro and starts whispering to themselves. Keith shoots them a piercing stare.

Shiro and Keith ascend the stairway and to the grand front doors. Keith is just about to knock when the door opens up. A whoosh of cigarette smoke, blasting music, and the sharp pong of booze suddenly greet them. Lance is standing by the doorway, looking as startled as Keith is.

"Oh. Hi there neighbor!" he says, smiling at Keith. Even in the dim light, Keith could still tell the slight glow of his skin and the cute dimples on his cheeks as he smiles. He turns to nod hello at Shiro before looking behind him to call out his siblings. "Guys come here and greet our new friends!" Behind him, the room is crammed with people. The tall, dark-haired Lance-looking guy is the first to show up. He introduces himself as Marco, and he's a year older than Shiro. Veronica, Lance's older sister appears with Luis, the youngest who just graduated high school this Fall. Veronica has a short-trimmed black hair, and her skirt is cut short just above her thighs.

"So what brought you here?" she asks, smiling kindly.

"Oh. Um, we just want to tell you that uh…" Shiro starts, blinking nervously. "See, I think I think your party is really cool and all but our mom works at busy shifts and she needs all the rest she could get, and we're also scholarship students so maybe… you could… you know,"

The three McClain siblings look at Shiro with the same puzzled expression on their faces. Lance cocks an eyebrow.

"Keep it down." Keith finishes for him, sharp and simple.

Shiro sucks in a breath. "…yes. What Keith said. Maybe, keep it down, a little?"

Lance and Marco exchange look while Luis snorts out a laugh before walking back inside the house. Lance seems to come down to a realization because he bobs his head and then Marco disappears into the room. The blast of music lowers in volume, to Keith and Shiro's relief.

"Sorry about that. You know what, you should definitely call me when it feels like it gets too loud. Yeah? Me, and not the police or anything." Lance says, placing a hand on Keith's shoulder. He stiffens immediately, hoping that the music is still loud enough to drown the noisy beating of his heart.

"Okay."

"Cool, let me give you my number." Lance fishes out his phone from his ridiculously skinny jeans pocket and ushers Keith to come closer. They exchange phone numbers and snapchat, and Keith pretends that he's not overly happy or something. His happiness is cut short, though, when the blonde girl from the previous day comes over and drapes her lithe arms around Lance's neck.

"Puddin' who's this?" Nyma drawls, looking at Keith from his head to toe. Lance places a hand on her hip.

Keith's heart sinks at the sight, he could feel a frown forming deep on his expression.

"Oh, it's the new guys I told you about. He lives right next to me."

"Hi, I'm Nyma." The girl says with a wave of her hand. She seems easy enough to figure out, curly blonde hair and high-riding crop top. She looks commercial pretty with pink manicure nails that match her pale eyeshadows. "Nice to meet you. I'll be seeing you guys lots, hope you don't mind."

Keith feels ridiculous for being even a tad bit jealous, because obviously he's just known Lance yesterday. With a chorus of "nice to meet yous" from Keith and Shiro, Nyma's smile disappears as quickly as it had surfaced.

"Alright, is that all?" Lance claps both his hands together, drawing Keith's attention back to him. he doesn't have those stomach butterflies anymore now that Nyma is here, but Lance is still a sight to look at.

"Um, yeah, I guess?" Shiro rubs his nape timidly. "Have a… good night…?"

Keith feels like he should say something, something cool and smart, so he blurts out, "Rad party dude,"

Lance raises his brows with an awkward smile on his face, and Keith knows he fucks up. Still standing at the threshold, he hears the cheers from the crowd within the house, and then a voice calling out Lance's name.

Keith could feel the party's magnetism, drawing him in, but he's not sure if Lance and his siblings would want him in there.

"See you sometime this week then…" he says weakly before turning away, downing the stare everyone's been giving him since his arrival.

Lance stares at the retreating back of his newfound neighbor – Keith Kogane – and spends a minute admiring his cute perky butt wrapped inside those sinful skinny jeans. Marco stands before him with a thoughtful look in his eyes, occasionally crossing and uncrossing his arms.

"Should we invite the nerds?" Surprisingly, the words come out from his brother and not him. Lance looks up to find Marco cocking an eyebrow at him. Lance doesn't immediately answer.

"But they're… nerds." Luis pops out of nowhere, a paper cup in hand.

"Yeah… but we gotta get them on our side so they won't call the police on us, like the previous family did." Lance murmurs darkly, wrinkles forming on his forehead.

"My point exactly. I mean, what can a couple of bores do to our party, anyway."

"What if they started hyping out about Dragon Age?" Luis says, throwing an index finger at his brother's way. Marco merely rolls his eyes, unamused, and turns around to Lance to hear his answer. It's kind of weird to always be the one making the decision, with him being the second son and everything. But since he's the party planner, everyone listens to him.

"Fine. Then it's settled." Lance decides. He steps a little outside, down the threshold and out the sidewalk, catching up with the two siblings in no time.

"Hey!" he calls out, waving a hand high in the air. "Uh, guys? You wanna come in?"

Keith is baffled. He hasn't even known Lance that well to hang out with him, and now he's being invited to his house party? Not to mention he's never actually hang with the partying type, so he doesn't know what to expect.

"Huh? Us…? Really?" Shiro speaks up, eyes flicking from Lance to his house and back to Lance again.

The truth is, Keith is a little nervous himself. He has no idea what might go down at these kind of things, and he's still not sure how reliable Lance is, but then one look at Nyma has something inside his gut churning.

"Yeah, I mean, just to see what this is all about." Lance says casually, throwing the both of them a carefree smile.

Keith seems to make up his mind – he scoffs and scurries away to the direction of Lance's front doors. "Sure. It wouldn't hurt."

"Keith! Wait!" he walks pass Lance and hears Shiro picking up his pace behind him with a groan. "Fine, then, just for a minute or two – " there's a weird choking sound, and then Shiro doesn't seem to budge; his eyes set straight on the threshold.

Keith eyes his brother with mild concern before following his gaze and his eyes land on this… woman – with pale blonde hair that curls around her slim frame, blue eyes clearer than any ocean – and as soon as his eyes found her, it's hard to look anywhere else. Shiro seems to agree wholeheartedly at this, because even though Keith is 100% gay he could tell that the woman is gorgeous.

"Lance!" she opens her mouth to speak, and Keith reluctantly follows the motion of her berry-stained glowing lips. The way Lance's name roll on her tongue gives out her thick English accent that only adds to her appeal. "Everyone's been looking for you – oh, who are these cute looking lads?"

Lance puts a hand on the small of his back and Keith snaps back into himself. Lance's touch leaves a burning sensation in its wake. "Oh, this is our new neighbors! Keith and Shiro – meet Allura! She's my – "

"You guys are not fucking, are you?" Keith blurts out, earning a shocked gasp from both Allura and Lance. (Because if they are, Keith knows he doesn't stand a chance.)

"What! No! Allura's like my distant relative!" Lance says scornfully. "Where did that come from, even?!"

Keith levels him with an incredulous stare. Their faces are super close now. "But you don't have an accent,"

"Dude!"

Allura laughs, clear and mesmerizing like the sound of bells. "Aw, come now. I'm sure we're all related somehow, yes?" she steps closer to Shiro, who's been watching her like she's something exquisite. He's bright red from the attention, lips quivering as if he wants to say something but decided against it. "No need to think too much about it, let's just enjoy the party, shall we?" she says and with a tug she takes Shiro away, clomping inside ahead of Keith. The two of them disappear amidst the swarm of bodies inside the house, and Keith is almost jealous of his brother's luck.

"Let me give you a tour," Lance says, breaking him out of his reverie as he guides him inside. Keith blinks as he adjusts his eyes to the blinding, flickering neon lights that change color as fast as sirens, but so much more colorful. A cacophony fills the wide, open room, but he could still point out Lance's voice clearly. Lance shuts the door behind them and continues to lead him with his hands on his back to the heart of the party.

It's hard to make his way around the sea of people dancing and grinding against each other – not to mention the music is so loud it causes his skin to tingle and the thick smoke in the air makes his lungs feel like mush. He bumps into a group of well-dressed boys and apologizes profusely, but they merely laugh; the sound rings in his ears and doesn't seem to stop. Lance offers him a cup that he dumbly accepts, quickly downing whatever in it when he sees Lance's hopeful expression. The cute laugh that Lance releases makes the awful taste worth it.

He doesn't know why but he scrambles for another cup – and then another – and as Lance guides him upstairs he's already on his sixth helping or something. "I'm really glad you're here. Let me show you my room," Lance says. The second floor is vacant, unlike the floor below. The music's still loud but it's not literally in his ears right now, and with Lance by his side it almost feels intimate. Whatever it is that had drawn him to Lance so quickly, he doesn't want to mess it up.

"This floor is off-limit. Family and close friends only," he explains as if he can read his mind. "This one's my room,"

Lance opens up a door on the far-right corner of the long hallway, painted in bright sky blue that reminds Keith of his previous house in Dallas. Lance's room is spacey, wide, painted in warm beige and illuminated by the dancing colorful LED lights. It's like your typical college boy's room; dirty laundry cluttered messily on the floor; take-out boxes and empty stack of cups as far as the eye can see; the walls pulsed with the muted lighting, sprinkled with various posters, mostly of space and stars and NASA logo. The baby blue comforter is thrown across the room, far away from the bed. A desk sits in one corner, littered with books and papers and cans of Pringles. But what catches Keith's attention the most is the lone, shiny telescope that sits in front of the large, opened window, its design slim and minimalistic; making him ache to get his hands around it. (And also a pile of what it seems to be some huge ass boxes of fireworks hidden underneath the desk, but he chooses to ignore it)

"You like space?" Keith asks breathlessly.

"I think it's cool." Lance answers all smiley. He pushes open the window and sets the telescope so Keith can see through it.

"It is." Keith agrees. "Why are you showing me all these?"

Lance hums. "I think you're a really cool neighbor."

Keith flushes and brings his attention elsewhere. He misses Lance pulling out his lighter and flicking it on. He catches the heady scent in the air, thick and clogging.

"Do you smoke?"

"Um." Keith eyes the roll between Lance's fingers carefully. It's not cigarette. "I've never…"

"Don't be a wuss, come on." Lance puts the joint between Keith's lips and Keith is too distracted on the close proximity and Lance's fingers on his lips to notice him lighting the rollup up. He takes a deep toke and promptly coughs into his hand – his lips and throat burning up at the taste. Lance laughs at him, the corner of his eyes crinkling adorably as he does so.

"Whoa, slow down, bad boy. You're not supposed to have that much in your first try."

Keith nods and wipes at a stray tear before taking another huff. He begins slowly, taking up his time to let his mind works out the harsh whiff into something more satisfactory. Lance then pulls him by the wrist and takes him downstairs once again, where the music is no longer annoying but instead it excites him. Everyone else in the room goes out of focus and he melts. The time seems to have slow down. He doesn't remember how many puffs he took, all he knows that he's asking Lance for more but the brunette merely shakes his head and laugh, still holding onto Keith. Just then he feels something rising up his head, and he laughs with Lance too. They snake deeper into the house, pass by the kitchen where Shiro is having a drinking contest with a jock-looking guy and (to his surprise,) Allura. They made it to a large open room – in which Keith guesses is the living room – when he notices the silvery glint in the middle of the room, catching the light of the disco ball overhead. It's a steel pole with a circular cross section, standing boldly in the middle of the commotion, running from the floor to the ceiling.

Keith freezes, and so does Lance. "Wh – What is this?" he stutters.

"Uh. It's a pole," Lance supplies.

"Yeah, but what's a pole doing in the middle of your house?"

"Um for pole dancing? Obviously?"

"This isn't some kind of strip joint, it's a house." Keith tries to reason, somehow. He doesn't know why.

"Hey, it can be whatever I want! People pole dance in a party!" Lance lets go of Keith's hand to pout, and Keith struggles to not to look too disappointed.

"O…kay. So who does pole dancing in the middle of the house?"

Lance observes the crowd for a bit before his interest wanes. "Karen, usually, cuz she works at a strip, but other than her, few drunk kids, and me,"

Keith swallows thickly even though his throat is dry as shit. "You?" his eyes glance up and down Lance's features, taking in his sight from head to toe. "You, dancing on a pole?"

"What, do you think I can't?" Lance's voice takes on a more challenging tone and he squints his eyes looking at Keith.

"I dunno," Keith takes a step backward, crossing his arms over his chest. His smirk is playful; teasing. "You don't look convincing enough."

"Is that a challenge, mullet?"

"Did I stutter?"

Lance scoffs like he couldn't believe this kid in front of him. He shakes his head in a playful manner before disappearing into the crowd. Keith's gut drop and he almost panic, thinking that he had piss Lance off and he left him alone when the brunette comes right back with a tiny bar stool on his right hand. He places it down right in front of Keith.

"What's this for?"

Lance pushes his short bangs back with his hand. "For you to sit down, 'cuz you're in for a show and I just gave you the best seat in the house." He begins to unbutton his red plaid shirt until it barely leaves nothing for the imagination and unbuckles his belt. "Don't blame me if you're blown away, Mississippi mudflap."

"Wha – " but then Lance presses his hand against the pole and begin climbing, his body light as feather and Keith's could feel his tongue numbing, words escaping him in the form of senseless mutters. He barely registers how the crowd surrounding him has extended, and then he hears whistles and cheers and people screaming Lance's name like they worship him or something similar to it.

"Yo, McClain is dancing!" he hears a guy said.

"Show em Lancey!" "Show me those moves, baby!"

And Keith – Keith is – well, overwhelmed would be an understatement.

Lance is captivating.

Risqué.

Sensuous.

Fun.

Magnetic.

And other difficult words that don't usually pop into his head.

Lance moves gracefully, lifting his body up into the air like he barely weighs a pound, grinding his hips teasingly while those ocean eyes stay locked on Keith's. He twirls around the steel, locking his thighs in place and pushes his torso back to show off his pectorals and loses his shirt in the process. And Keith is high. He's definitely and figuratively high, at some point, but getting high on Lance is another thing entirely. All he wants to do is press against the guy and roams his hand all over his tanned skin, making him delirious with wants.

Lance drops down elegantly on his feet and chortles on a laugh before pulling Keith away from the scene.

"How's that?" Lance asks as they settled down on the coach. He doesn't even bother putting his clothes back on.

Keith hums. "I think. You should consider becoming a stripper."

"See? I told you!" Rolo yells from right next to him. Keith might have jumped a little. He doesn't even realize the guy was there all along.

"Guys, guys, please. I'm not that cheap." Lance waves his hand. His face red with alcohol and the atmosphere. He spins his head to look at Keith, frowning. "But I'd give you a discount, mullet. How's that?"

The rest of the guys are howling with laughter, and Keith would too, if he's not too busy memorizing Lance's very face into the deepest part of his mind.

Veronica slithers right next to him and whispers; "are you not going to take his offer? My brother has more to offer than what he lets on."

Keith flushes a deep red; the heat extends all the way into his fingertips. He only nods stiffly, and everyone tips their heads, laughing.

Honestly, the rest of the party is nothing but a blur to him, with Lance dancing as the highlight of the entire night (or his entire life, more like).

His memories are cut short and brief, like swiping through the old part of your phone gallery. He remembers drinking so much he throws up at the side of the pool; remembers cheering at Shiro to take his shirt off; remembers asking Lance if the mushroom he'd offered him was Shitake or not because he absolutely loves Shitake mushrooms; most of all, he remembers a smile so bright it hurts his eyes to look at.

Then come morning. And then headache. And he doesn't know how he ended up laying down with Lance's thighs as his pillow but for once, he's grateful to whatever God is out there, watching over him. He sits up with a groan holding his head with both of his hands.

"I think we should head back," he says. "Mom's coming home soon."

"Aww," Lance tuts from behind him.

Shiro's still in the kitchen, still not wearing anything but his jeans and his shoes are missing a pair when Keith finds him. "Shiro, come on, let's go back."

He's talking to Allura, who, despite the mess they're in, still look as pretty and graceful as ever. "Did you have a good time?" she asks.

Keith only nods, wanting nothing more but a nice warm bed and his fluffy bed. "We should probably go back before our mother arrives. But thanks for the invite,"

Lance appears from behind him. "No problem bro, we good?"

"Yeah. We're good."

"We're not good." Keith growls out, staring out the window with his jaws set into a straight line. Partying in a Friday night is one thing. You call it letting out the stress or some shit, Keith could let it fly. Partying it out again the next fucking day, well, whatever, it's Saturday, Lance could go crazy for all he cares. Partying out on a Sunday night – now Keith wonders where the fuck Lance obtained that much money that he just won't stop carousing around.

But on a Monday? And when his mother is present?

The bright pink glow reflects itself against the window to his living room, bright and woozy and loud. He could've sworn everyone in the town is there. The music is escaping from every open window and door, and no matter how Keith tries to block out the sound, it's near impossible.

"No wonder this house is cheap. We basically live next to a frat house," his mother whines from where she's seating down on the dining table.

Keith worrying about his mother is one thing, but he has an important test tomorrow morning and he hasn't been able to focus on one topic, let alone the whole chapter. The loud bass thumps in time with his heart beat as though they're one and it's driving him crazy. Over the rumble of music, a distant, muffled chatter can be heard.

"Let's just fucking call the police." Keith decides. "You should try to sleep, mom. Let me and Shiro handle this."

Krolia spares him one last look and huffs, rubbing her temple as she climbs up the stair. Shiro stands unmoving by the window, glaring at the commotion outside. "Have you tried calling Lance? I mean, he told us to give him a call first…"

"I did! He didn't pick up – ugh!" Keith rumbles, curling his fingers into a fist. "Look, let me just…" he picks up his phone again and dials Lance's number. He waits and waits until the dial tones come to a stop and the voicemail picks up.

"Fuck!"

"Keith…" Shiro begins, looking a little tired himself.

"We haven't been sleeping properly since Saturday, and it's their goddamn fault!"

"Maybe we should… go over there…?" Shiro says, grimacing a little.

Keith shakes his head. He points at the phone in his hand like he's about to go mad. "No. You know what? Fuck 'em. I'm calling the police."