⫸——⫷

Several rounds later, you were drunk.

You were sitting on a black leather couch that faced the karaoke floor with Wally sitting next to you. There were two other couches forming a semi-square (if there was a fourth couch, it would be a full square), but they were both empty because everyone was dancing or waiting to karaoke. The dance floor was off to your right. There was a coffee table in the middle of the couches; it held your and Wally's drinks.

You were not wasted by any means, but you could definitely feel the drinks in your system. Barnaby and Julie were currently singing My Way by Frank Sinatra — a more heartfelt song that made the whole crowd swoon. Their harmony was surprisingly wonderful.

"They're good, aren't they?" Wally asked you.

"Yeah," you said, recognizing that your own speech was beginning to slur. Your thoughts were less coherent than usual, which was unsurprising. Along with that, you could not stop smiling. The alcohol made you feel like you had to. "Wow. I wish I could sing like that."

"Practice makes perfect, (Y/N)."

You raised an eyebrow at him. He had to stop saying your name in public or you were going to punch him.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, eyes interlocked as if you were testing each other, smiles plastered on both of your faces. It felt like you could not look away. You watched Wally's cheeks flush brighter.

"Stop," he whispered.

Just then, the room erupted in applause. You turned away from Wally to see Barnaby and Julie bowing and laughing on stage, their performance finished. You and Wally began to clap and cheer wildly as they stepped off the stage, heading towards the two of you, laughing and stumbling. "Oh my god, that was amazing!" you raved. You had to force the words out, for your mind was still focused on Wally.

Julie waved a hand at you like it was nothing. "Oh stop, you're too kind."

Barnaby clapped Julie on the back. "You carried me back here. Without your high octave, I would have looked like a fool."

"No!" Wally argued. "You were both spectacular."

They both chuckled. Then Barnaby said he was going to get more drinks. When he walked away, Julie sat on the couch that was across from you. "What are you singing tonight, Wally?"

Earlier during the performances, Wally left you alone on the couch to sign himself up for a song. "My first song will be We'll Meet Again with (Y/...), uh, Charlie," Wally said.

Two things made you turn to look at him. First, he almost called you by your real name with Julie nearby, and second, he said he would be singing with you. "Wait, what?" you blurted.

Wally turned away from Julie to look at you. "We'll be singing together! Surprise!" His words were slurring more with every passing minute. He looked delighted to announce his surprise, and for a moment, you thought it was cute. But then you remembered that you did not, in fact, know how to sing very well. Wally's voice had a wonderful natural lilt to it that would make for good singing; yours did not.

Not only did you absolutely not want to sing, but Wally could not get drunk if he was going to be spouting your real name out everywhere. Luckily, he had caught his mistake this time, but next time he might not be so careful.

"But I don't want to sing!" you said.

"Too bad, so sad." Wally stuck his tongue out at you. You wanted to bite it. That was when you realized you were, in fact, drunk. Your heart fluttered.

"Don't worry, Charlie," Julie said. "I'm sure you will sound great! Plus, there are a lot of amateurs that sing every night. If you are an amateur, then you won't be the only one."

You sighed. A little bit later, Barnaby returned, holding four shot glasses, two pink cocktails, and four plastic water bottles in his arms. Julie stood up to help him set all of the cups on the table. While they were distracted, you decided to do something, and upon making the decision, you felt a flurry of anxiety and confidence battle within your stomach.

You grabbed Wally's arm tight, turned your head away from Julie and Barnaby, leaned in close to Wally's ear, and whispered, "Don't say my name around them again. You've done it twice — I won't let you do it again."

You quickly pulled away and made sure Julie and Barnaby had not seen you. It looked like they did not. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Wally staring daggers into your face, but you did not return his gaze like you had earlier. Another dance with his eyes might just set your nerves ablaze, killing you on the spot. Instead, you waited for the anxiety in your stomach to settle.

"Alright pals, let's take some SHOTS!" Barnaby hollered. He had placed two shot glasses in front of you and Wally.

"What is it?" you asked.

"Te-qui-la!" Barnaby sang, swinging his hips on every syllable. Then he raised his glass.

All of you took the shot at once. This one felt worse than the first, so you quickly used your margarita to chase it down. Chasing a shot with an alcoholic beverage was probably going to bite you in the ass quite soon. You took one of the water bottles that Barnaby had brought and chugged down a few gulps.

"Whew!" Julie exclaimed, shivering after taking her shot. "I have a feeling I'm going to feel like shit tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, what is everyone doing? Any plans?" she asked, looking around at everyone.

"I'll be lazing about," Barnaby said. He was leaning back on the couch now. He did not seem as drunk as anyone else, but he was probably tipsy. "Might go do something. I don't know."

"I'm painting! Anyone is welcome to come over and paint with me," Wally slurred. He poked you in the leg. "You especially. I haven't done your portrait yet!"

"Well, I'm working tomorrow afternoon," you said, your vision swaying slightly as you looked at Wally. "I might be free in the evening though."

Wally giggled. "I'm forcing you to come over, silly." His voice sounded slightly strained, as if he was begging you — but not obviously. He poked your leg again. You laughed at his absurdity. Alcohol made a lot of things very funny, and that last shot was starting to settle in your stomach.

Then, Julie stood up. "I'm going to dance! Come!" She walked around the coffee table and offered you her hand. She was grinning and her cheeks were slightly flushed, probably from the booze. "Come, Charlie. All of you. Come on. C'mon."

You figured that you might as well ride the wave of booze while you were on it. Julie swayed on her feet as you took her arm and stood. The two of you loitered out onto the dance floor with Wally and Barnaby behind you, drinks in hand. You shoved past the sweaty mob of people until you found a spot to dance. Between karaoke songs, club music boomed over the speakers. Most of the songs people sang were rhythmic enough to dance to, anyways, even if their voices were not professional-performance worthy.

The rest of the night started to blur after that. You all danced for a while, wildly and confidently, before Wally suddenly gripped your arm and told you it was time to sing. You had not even realized.

The two of you stumbled up to the karaoke stage. There were three microphones and a small TV screen on the stage, along with speakers lining the wall behind it. The TV screen lit up with the lyrics of We'll Meet Again, but the words swayed before your eyes, so you tried to recall the lyrics from heart. Every time you messed up, you fell into a brief fit of laughter before recovering. Wally was belting every word out next to you, and even though you were both drunk, you thought he sounded amazing.

After the performance, the two of you returned to the dance floor, giggling all over each other. The layer of fondness through which you saw him was thickening with every laugh, every gaze, every lingering touch. Sure, it might have just been the alcohol, but that did not make your feelings any less real.

More shots and drinks were purchased, and hours passed. The hours were full of dizzy vision, slurred words, random laughter, and bumping into one of your new friends or a random stranger. It felt good to let go, to dance and feel as though nothing could ever burden you again.

Eventually, Julie fell down, face first on the tiled dance floor. You watched her fall, and for a second, she did not get up. You were about to reach out and help her when Wally decided to jump on top of Julie.

Barnaby was next to you, staring down at them. He looked at you, sighed, and said, "I think it's time we take them home."

You agreed. Honestly, it was time that they took you home, because you almost jumped on top of Wally and Julie's pile as well, just for shits and giggles. Thus, you all finished your drinks and meandered out of the building, sipping from plastic water bottles as you went.

Once you were outside, you started to feel sick. Your vision was swaying far too much, and you could barely hear out of both ears. Your stomach lurched with every step, and you were barely aware of your surroundings. On the dance floor, surrounded by club music and similarly impaired people, it felt normal to be so disoriented, but now that you were out in the cold night air, it all felt wrong.

Barnaby was keeping watch over everyone, occasionally scooping up Julie or Wally when they fell or reaching out an arm to help you when you lost your balance. Wally kept hooking his arm around yours and holding your hand, and each time, you let him remain for a second before pulling away.

At some point, you tripped on the concrete path and vomited. You felt better afterwards, and Barnaby hoisted you back up to your feet, giving you kind reassurances.

Barnaby led you all somewhere, but you were not sure where. You just knew that, at some point, you were in a warm house, laying on a couch. Everything around you rocked, like you were on a roller coaster that would not stop. You closed your eyes so you would not have to watch everything spin.

Someone was laughing nearby, and it sounded like Wally. You opened your eyes to find him standing above you, staring at you. His dark eyes looked like puddles of black goop. You wanted to kiss him then, because he was just so handsome, and you could not remember why you were not supposed to like him.

"G'night, (Y/N)," he whispered, his words slurred nearly beyond comprehension. He poked your cheek with his finger, which made you giggle.

"Night night, Wally," you slurred.

A few minutes after Wally walked away, you fell asleep.

⫸——⫷