sorry this took so long, I've been having a bit of emotional problems

Craig and I stood by the door to Token's house, though I had yet to open the door. The sounds of the party filled both our ears, nonetheless, with complete clarity. I gripped the knob, palms sweating and making the knob ever so slightly slippery. Neither of us spoke.

Now, this certainly wouldn't be such a dilemma if I hadn't had such a horrid fear of loud noises. I never have liked them, but due to my ADHD, a lot of different sounds coming in causes me to freak out. My therapist told me it was called 'sensory overload'. Considering such a thing, it's pretty obvious why I was hesitating to do such a simple task as open the door and enter the mansion. Anybody in my situation would do the same, I believe.
Despite not mentioning this to Craig, he didn't seem to be making any noises of protest against my hesitation. I glance over at him, making eye contact. He gave a small smile back, and this gives me enough power to twist the knob. The door swung open, and I was almost immediately greeted with the sounds of loud music and chatter from teenagers.

I quickly dive into the building, glancing back at Craig as he did the same. It was loud in the house, but at least for now, I was fine.

Craig spent little time dawdling before he wandered into the kitchen, pouring himself a shot of vodka. I envy that freedom, the ability to drink without hesitation. I was never so carefree, my medication doesn't allow such a thing, and the thought of my mom finding out I was drinking causes me to sweat. I would be grounded for, like, ever.

He quickly swallows his shot glass, and fills it again. However, this time, he grabbed a second small glass, filling it up as well. I knew what was going to happen, of course.

"Drink up," he says, handing me the small glass of alcohol. Craig downs his second shot as he hands it over, eyes shutting as he does so.

"Are you sure we won't get caught?" I whisper, grabbing the glass, holding it up to my face to smell it. It reeks, but I couldn't exactly expect much else from a shot. "Like, you know for a fact mom won't find out?"

"Chill out, it's fine."

"What if it wasn't?" I yelp, kicking him in the shin. He simply backs up, laughing.

"Hey, don't get violent now." He tells me, flipping the bird momentarily before pouring both our glasses once more. He seems pretty keen on getting us drunk. Perhaps, however, this is for the best. It's possible I would mellow out due to the intoxication. So, I accept it, downing it rather quickly to get the foul taste through my mouth as fast as I can.

I take this chance to glance around me. The house was as fancy as usual, the highest quality tech around the building. In the living room closest to my current position, I see Bebe and her gang sitting by the tv. A horror movie seems to be playing. Beer bottles and soda cans litter the floor around them, and I can faintly make out the figure of Kenny and someone else making out. I don't recognize the other person, nor do I care too much to find out who it could be.

A bit aways from the TV I see Stan and Kyle simply sitting around, laughing about something. While Stan looks shit-faced drunk, Kyle seems as though he hasn't sipped a single drip of alcohol. This is certainly possible. Stan seems to be leaning against his super best friend, having trouble keeping himself up. They don't seem like they notice anybody but each other around them.

Somehow between drinking shots and me scanning the house, Craig made his way towards Clyde and Token. They seem like they would be any day, none showing signs of intoxication or strange behaviour. At least they stay the same.

One of the girls, whom I haven't bothered to learn the name to, yells out over the noise (how, however, is unknown to me) that a game of truth or dare was to be played.

"Isn't that, I don't know, a little Juvenile?" I hear Craig protest, rolling his eyes.

"Ahh c'mon, Craig, it'll be fun!" the nameless girl insists, slugging an arm around his shoulder. I almost jump in, not really wanting some stranger touching him. I don't. That's stupid and possessive and I'm not going to be that creepy best friend.

Despite the protesting of Craig and a few other people (including myself), we somehow end up in a circle, ready to play the game. My head is throbbing from the alcohol and noise level, making it hard to focus on the game at hand.

I know that Stan and Kyle kissed. Bebe had to do a stupid dance in front of the group and Kenny had to rate everyone on a hotness scale. Other things happened, obviously. I just didn't catch it. I was focusing harder on blocking out excess noise than what stupid dare someone was forced to do.

A noise broke me out of my focus,

"Tweek, truth or dare?" Kenny asks, leaning in. I look upward at him. Knowing Kenny, he probably had some strange perverted dare in mind if I chose that option, so obviously I went for truth. I wasn't about to do something disgusting because some ass in a game of truth or dare told me to.

"T-truth.."

"Who do you like?" my heart skipped a beat. Who do I like? Do I even like someone. I tug at the collar to my shirt, beginning to sweat. I don't fucking know if I like someone, that's not something I just have access to in my head.

"Nobody?" I hesitantly answer, beginning to feel anxiety rise up inside of me.

"Mmm, you're not supposed to lie." he told me.

"I'm not lying!" I quickly yelp at the other boy, leaping forward and tugging at the ends of my long, messy hair. I push my way past the horde of drunk people, and despite feeling awfully dizzy from the alcohol consumption, I seemed to have no issues making it past the door and into the streets. I didn't think, and as panic filled me, causing my inability to breath, I collapsed by a small park. I rolled onto the cold grass, curling up into a small ball. It was cold. I'm not okay. I hate parties. I hate alcohol. I want to go home.

I held onto the edges of my shirts, holding back tears. Why was I panicking? Nothing crazy happened. Relax. Calm. I can't calm, though, I can't relax. My heart pounds harder, harsher in my chest. I run a hand through my hair, count to ten. Rinse and repeat.

I grow dizzier and dizzier. The world begins to fade. Maybe I'm dying. I don't know. I close my eyes, accepting the cold air surrounding me.

"Dude, what the fuck?" I jump up, pulling my knees to my chest. I look up at the cause of the noise. Craig is standing there. He takes off his jacket, putting it over my shoulders. "Are you okay?" He sits down beside me, a look of concern plastered across his pale face. I let out a small laugh, wiping a few tears off my face.

"I'm falling apart, Craig." I laugh, crying a little bit harder now. I grip his shirt, burrowing my face into his shoulder. It's warm. "I can't help it, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around me "Calm down, it's okay. Don't apologize." he told me, but it did little to calm me down.

"I can't calm down." I sob louder, coughing. My chest is tight, so tight. I feel as though I'm going to throw up. It's gross, I feel gross. I probably look gross.

"Yes you can." he assures me, running a large hand through my hair. It's calming, and I begin to calm. It's weird how that works. My breathing begins to grow less rapid, and my crying draws to a halt. It seems okay. I draw away, looking at him in the eyes.

"Can we go home?" I ask.

"Of course."

Apologizes for it being short, and not exactly happy. I wanted to make it a long, happy fluffy chapter because I waited so long, but I couldn't do that, I guess.
Still not sure what direction I want to take with this