WHAM! I throw the front door open a little too frantically and the handle collides with the door.

“Shit!” I curse under my breath, dropping my backpack on the front step. I twist my head around the door and breathe a sigh of relief. The wall is still thankfully hole-free. I yank my backpack over the threshold and slam the door shut again, running frantically to the living room. It’s just as gross as I remember, with cans and bottles, some broken, strewn everywhere. There’s pizza sauce on the couch and the ceiling and a large spot of what looks horribly like vomit on the rug. Andy said to be ready by five, and it’s three forty-five already. There’s no time to lose. I grab a trash bag and stuff everything pell-mell- into it, even the bottles that aren’t empty. Then I stuff it in another bag in hopes that the broken glass won’t tear both and hurl it over the backyard fence to the trash pile on the other side. I roll the rug up, careful not to touch the spot, and throw it over too. There’s no way I’m dealing with that today. The sauce smear comes off the ceiling easily enough, but it doesn’t want to come out of the couch so after a few minutes of frantically scrubbing I flip the cushion over and pretend the stain doesn’t exist. Good enough. I vacuum and sweep and dust every surface I can think to clean and spray some lysol over it for good measure. Then I check my phone. Four thirty. I race up the stairs, yanking my sweater over my head as I go and take a quick shower, finally putting on clean clothes, (a maroon t-shirt and a pair of black jeans,) and some quick makeup. I’m pulling on a leather jacket and debating whether I should style my hair when the doorbell rings five minutes early. I rocket back down the stairs to find that people have already started to let themselves in. Abi, who looks like she’s about ready to burst with excitement. Andy, who’s wearing a Bengals jersey and a smile, and four other guys who I recognize instantly but have never met. I stare openmouthed at the small assembly of smiling people who are definitely way too cool to be at my party.

Andy grins, holding up a well-worn copy of ‘Batman Forever.’

“ What did you think I meant by ‘party?’”

Notes

Hey guys! Sorry about the radio silence. I wanted to make this one a double feature because the timing didn't flow right if I had it all in one, and it would't make as much sense if I hadn't released them at the same time. :)

Regardless, I hope you like the new chapter! It always makes my day to hear people appreciate the creative work that I do. Hopefully the next story I write won't get off to such a rocky start. XD Anyways, Question of the update: If you could remake any movie so that it was scored entirely by BVB, which one would it be and why? (The questions that really matter Folks) My choice would be a movie adaptation of Leigh Bardugo's book, Six of Crows. Not because I think that they mesh particularly well together, but because I feel like Kaz (the main character) would really like their music. :) Anyways, I'd like to thank you lovely people for reading my mindless rambling and taking time out of your day to comment and rate my story. :)

-Until next chapter;
-BVBfangirlqueen<3