At the academy, three things were for certain:
1.) Anyone that needed to score alcohol for their parties needed to contact Gilbert Beilschmidt. He could get them anything. Alternatively, if they were looking for something a little more herbal, they could always count on Antonio.
2.) Francis Bonnefoy was the most beautiful creature to walk those halls.
And 3.) Feliks Lukasiewicz could throw a killer party. Adding Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio to the mix would only make it that much more legendary. Most people knew they had a reputation, but Feliks' could damn near rival theirs on his own. And Feliks made sure the world knew it. Not that they were rivals or anything. Feliks would often call on his three favorite upperclassmen to make sure his events would go off without a hitch.
They all walked in, hoping to find the host at the door, but to no avail. Feliciano and Ludwig went one direction while the others went opposite. Francis just wanted to find another drink to make him numb and a couch for him to nest on. Alfred Jones…Of all fucking people, Alfred "Narcissism Incarnate" Jones is who Arthur rebounds to? I should've known. Was Arthur dumping me in front of an audience what caused my stock to plummet? I'm a man without an island here!
"Francis!" Feliks found him first and threw himself into the empty spot next to him, "How is it hanging, my friend?"
"Painfully depressed and empty."
"Well," Feliks got up, "I see a can of the worms has been opened up with you. Hold on. Let me go find Magnus. I'm sure he can cheer you up."
"If you say so…"
The alcohol wasn't working. The weed wasn't working. Francis needed more to drown his sorrows. No…He needed his Arthur back. But that wasn't going to happen. Because ALFRED FUCKING JONES had Francis' angel in his lap now. Francis just wanted numbness. Good or bad, he didn't want to feel anything. And as good as his relationship with Magnus Densen was, his constant upbeat energy was the last thing he needed. Unless he was peddling something that could give him a complete one-eighty, he wanted nothing to do with anybody.
"Francis?" a kind, gentle voice called out to him, "Minden rendben?"
"Not really," Francis sighed out, "But thank you for your concern, Elizabeta. I appreciate it."
"What's the matter?" Elizabeta put an arm around Francis, pulling him into her shoulder, "Talk to me."
"I really don't want to talk about it," Francis tried worming his way out, but Elizabeta's mothering nature was far too overpowering, "And if you're trying to hit on me, now is really not a good time."
"Who said I was hitting on you?" she jumped on the defensive.
"You act as if no one knows you and Roderich are on the rocks," he scoffed, "Would you two either shit or get off the pot already?"
"All I was trying to do was help!" Elizabeta got up, throwing the rest of her drink in Francis' face, "You're an asshole, Francis Bonnefoy! It's no wonder Arthur left you!"
That was a blow to the heart Francis didn't need today. Especially with the Arthur wound so fresh. Then again, he also didn't need someone to come over and baby him. It had become a well-known fact that Elizabeta Hedervary harbored the world's biggest crush on Francis and at one time, she'd do anything to be with him. Then, her boyfriend Roderich came around and they've been together ever since. That didn't mean her crush on Francis ever subsided.
"Francis!" Just what Francis didn't need. Magnus Densen was a firecracker when all Francis wanted was some peace and quiet, "What's up?"
"Not now, Magnus," Francis shut his eyes for a second, "I already sent Elizabeta off in tears. Don't make me do the same to you."
"Feliks was right," Magnus chuckled to himself, "You are bottomed out."
"Again," Francis grumbled, "Not now, Magnus. Go play somewhere else."
"But what if I told you," Magnus kept his voice down, "that I had a little something, something from my brother Abel that could make you feel all better inside?"
"Antonio already got me stoned," Francis pointed out, "I'm sure whatever your brother gave you won't put a dent in me right now."
"Abel's been studying in the Netherlands," Magnus pulled a plastic bag, much like the one Antonio had at Gilbert's house, out of his pocket. Only instead of having weed in it, these looked more like candy, "He told me not to have more than one of these at a time."
"What is it?" Francis studied them a little closer.
"I'm not sure," Magnus dumped some out in his hand, "He said that he had one guy call them happy pills. Another one called them Skittles. I'm sure they can help you out."
"What do I have to lose?" Francis shrugged, popping a couple of them in his mouth.
"Whoa there, Francis," Magnus tried to stop him, "I haven't even done any of this yet."
"I guess you're about to see what they do then," Francis sat comfortably in his spot on the couch and had no intentions of moving.
Meanwhile, Antonio and Gilbert had found where the bar was set up. The kitchen had been wall to wall bodies of drunk teenagers, looking for something to quench their thirsts. Gilbert pouted about the lack of a keg and Antonio took the bottle of rum, downing it straight like a pirate. Then, out of nowhere, Kiku Honda appeared with a white bottle in his hands.
"Kiku!" Antonio always was a hugger when he was drunk.
"Konbanwa, Antonio-san," Kiku tried to peel off the Spaniard, but again, Antonio doesn't realize his own strength, "Would you please let me go?"
"Sorry," Antonio may be a hugger, but he also understood that no meant no, regardless of if he was drunk or not.
"Isn't there usually three of you?" Kiku wondered, "Where's Francis?"
"I don't know," Gilbert admitted, "He kind of wandered off and we haven't seen him since. Why?"
"I had heard he yelled at Elizabeta Hedervary to leave him alone," Kiku reported, "I hope they're both doing ok."
"What else have you heard?" Antonio wondered, worried about the trouble Francis could get himself into when he's depressed and unattended.
"That was it," Kiku shrugged, "I'm sorry that I couldn't be much more help to you. If you're looking for information, I suggest you find Yao. He knows everything about everyone."
"Gracias, Kiku," Antonio smiled. It's good to know Yao's here, too.
"No problem," Kiku bowed, "Do you know if Feliciano and Ludwig are here, too?"
"They drove!" Gilbert squeaked, "You wouldn't know where I can get a beer around here, do you?"
"No."
"DAMMIT!"
"Call your guy," Antonio gave him a nudge.
"I can't just call my guy," Gilbert rolled his eyes, "Then, I owe him a favor and that's not a position I want to be in."
"I'm going to go find Yao," Antonio decided, "Or Francis. Whichever one comes first."
"I'm going to choke down some whiskey," Gilbert pouted, "Pray for me."
"Santa Maria, Madre de Dios," Antonio began, his hands clasped together with his rosary between them, "Ruega por nosotros pecadores. Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amén."
"Thank you, Antonio," Gilbert chuckled, "That was very appreciated. Not that I understood a word of it."
"De nada," Antonio beamed. But behind his smile hid genuine concern. More often than not, Francis was a general beacon of sunshine and joy. Although, when he got low, he got low. Not quite to the point of…bad thoughts, but enough to do something stupid. The sooner he could find Francis, the better.
Antonio scoured every corner of Feliks' house, doing his best to find his friend in the state he was in. Almost everyone tried stopping him to say hi or ask for a dance or for weed. He didn't have time for that. Antonio was a man on a mission. However, instead of finding Francis, Antonio locked eyes with a different familiar face. One he hadn't seen in quite some time. With a smile, he called his name, "Antonio!"
"Hola, Sadik," Antonio smiled back, playing nice, "Como estas?"
"I'm actually looking for someone," Sadik told him, "What about you?"
"Me, too," Antonio nodded, "Have you seen Francis anywhere?"
"I don't keep track of him," Sadik shrugged, "Sorry. But if I see him, I'll let him know you're looking for him."
"What about you?" Antonio asked, "Who are you looking for?"
"A pretty Italian," Sadik gushed, "Have you seen one of them wandering around?"
"Feliciano's on Ludwig's hip," Antonio took a heavy drink from his rum, "If you're going after that, I wouldn't. Ludwig's pretty attached to him and will kick your ass for even looking at him."
"I'm not wanting to fuck with Ludwig," Sadik backed off, "Besides, Feliciano's not the one I'm looking for."
Antonio's stomach knotted up. There was no way. He wasn't here. When Antonio and Lovino were still together, it was a rarity they ever went out. And if they ever did, it was somewhere Lovino would pick. He wasn't as much of the socialite as his younger brother. And Lovino's youngest brother was hardly potty trained, "Are you looking for Lovino?"
"Oh, yeah," Sadik smirked, "I'm definitely looking for Lovino. You two were a thing once, weren't you?"
"We dated for two years, Sadik," Antonio's cool started getting warmer, "I'd say we were a little more than just a thing."
"Oh," Sadik brushed him off, "He's a squealy little thing, isn't he?"
"He's only squealy when…" The connection Antonio made in his head was enough to set off what Francis and Gilbert affectionally referred to as his asshole switch.
"And that little spot in his lower back," Sadik's grin only grew bigger, "That's a good spot to start."
Sadik knew exactly what he was doing. Sadik was there to pick a fight. And he knew just the right buttons on the usually calm and laid-back Antonio to set him off. Given the state that Antonio was in, Sadik was going to get exactly what he poked at Antonio for. Without another thought, Antonio finished off the bottle of rum in his hand, only to shatter it on the edge of an end table, "Mantén tus malditas manos lejos de mi hombre, hijo de puta…"
"I don't speak Spanish…"
"I said," Antonio gave him a swat with the broken bottle, "Keep your fucking hands off my man, you son of a bitch!"
"Last I checked," Sadik winced, not realizing how much blood gushed out of his arm, "He's not your man anymore…You're just mad that he's calling out my name these days and not yours."
"YOU STOLE HIM FROM ME!"
"He's not property…"
"Antonio!" Feliks came to break up the fight, "Are you fucking high?"
"I'm not high," Antonio snarled like a junkyard dog, "I'm pissed!"
"Come on," Feliks pulled him away from Sadik before Sadik got more blood on the carpet, "You need to go cool off."
"That asshole started it!" Antonio tried jumping out of Feliks' arms, but to no avail.
"It's over," Feliks put his foot down, "It's over or I'm getting Gilbert and Ludwig to take you out of here."
Antonio still had yet to find Francis and he had no idea where Gilbert had gone. All he could think about was driving his fist in Sadik's teeth. He didn't care. Dating, not dating, Antonio couldn't help himself. He'd always be protective of Lovino, no matter where their paths may take them. Antonio would always have the uncontrollable urge to defend him and his honor. And the way Sadik spoke of him only added fuel to Antonio's fire. Who does that piece of shit think he is? What do you see in him, Lovino? You don't deserve a prick like that.
While Antonio was doing his best to settle himself down, Gilbert had found a stray mini keg that beckoned him. Drink me, Gilbert. You're the only one I want to drink me. Hold me and swallow what I have to offer. To which Gilbert gladly accepted. Whiskey wasn't doing much for him, but it was the closest thing he could find to his sweet, full bodied nectar of the inebriated gods. The clouds parted and the loving light of Aegir shined upon him. While Antonio was ready to stab someone and Francis waited for whatever Magnus gave him to numb his pain, Gilbert couldn't be happier. If he hadn't pregamed in his basement, Gilbert would almost feel guilty.
"You might want to slow down, Beilschmidt," Yao Wang stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the den, "You're stupid enough."
"Fuck off, Yao," Gilbert laughed, knowing it was all in good fun, "I can handle it. When did you get here?"
"A little while ago," Yao took a seat next to him on the fireplace hearth, "Probably well after you started spooning the keg. You couldn't put anything better into your body?"
"Is that supposed to be a weird pick up line?" Gilbert teased, "Because it's not going to work. I am immune."
"No," Yao promised, "I have a little dignity."
"Hey," Gilbert sat up, remembering what he was looking for before he found the keg, "You wouldn't happen to know where Francis is, would you?"
"Don't you have a bell on him?"
"We really should, but who has the time to put it on him?"
"He does," Yao pointed out, "He can do it himself."
"I guess," Gilbert figured, "So, you don't know where he is?"
"Nope," Yao shook his head, "Sorry, Gilbert. What I do have is my undying friendship."
"That's not going to get me Francis…"
"Have you met Kiku's and my cousins yet?" Yao wondered, "They've been floating around here, too."
"Can't say that I have," Gilbert tapped the keg…That had unfortunately been tapped out, "Shit…"
"What's the matter?"
"I'm empty," Gilbert whined.
"I'm sorry," Yao empathized, "Well, if you do meet my cousins, keep them away from Elizabeta. She would only make a mess and Kiku and I don't need to clean that up."
"I know how you feel."
"Because of Francis or Antonio?" Yao wondered.
"Antonio?" Gilbert perked up, "I knew Francis had problems with Lizzie, but Antonio, too?"
"No," Yao explained, "Antonio and Sadik. You haven't heard?"
"No."
"Antonio damn near killed Sadik tonight," Yao reported, "He cut him with a broken rum bottle."
"What?" Gilbert squeaked, "Maybe the kid's more badass than we give him credit for. Or that stupid. Why?"
"Sadik has Lovino now," Yao went on, "He's got what Antonio had and lost. It's tragic."
"Mein Gott," Gilbert mumbled to himself, "I turn my back for a few minutes and this is what happens. I have to go find my brother and get out of here."
"It was nice seeing you, Gilbert!" Yao called after him, empathizing with his plight.
Before Gilbert had a chance to find anyone, the candy Magnus gave Francis had a chance to kick in. And for the first time in a week, Francis felt good. Francis felt really good. He hadn't moved from the couch to the point where people were convinced Magnus had a wax figure of Francis Bonnefoy to take out at parties. Francis was trapped in in his head, content for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.
I probably look like one of those guards that stand outside Buckingham Palace…
Even the reminder of Arthur wasn't enough to put a dent in him. Across the room, Francis noticed a couple of very attractive men. There's no way in hell they're local. I would've had at least one if not both of them by now. One was dressed in a long kimono that Francis was already imagining what it looked like on the floor the next morning. The other next to him looked like royalty. There was only room for one flamboyant bitch at this party and if it wasn't Francis, the balance in the universe was off. But the prospects of new meat thrilled him. All of a sudden, Francis didn't feel right. That thrill turned into severe shaking. No matter how hard he tried, Francis couldn't sit still. Magnus…I have to find Magnus. Before my heart gives out.
"Hey," Magnus found him first, "How you feeling, Francis?"
"What the fuck did you give me?" Francis grabbed Magnus by his collar, his face pouring sweat.
"I told you," Magnus had a much more cavalier attitude than Francis, "It'd be something to make you feel better."
"What was it?" Francis snapped, his skin losing pigment.
"A little bit of ecstasy," Magnus told him, "Why?"
"Because…" Francis grew lightheaded, "Because…"
"Because he's overdosing…"
