You walked down glass-shattered sidewalks through air thick with road-killed skunk and past the college-priced pizza joint on the corner to a booming building brave young men call their home. You walked around the back as to not alert the authorities to the house’s festivities even though you could hear the "Billboard Hot 100" from two streets over.
You were met by a young man who just carried the keg over his shoulders, tired and desperately pushing outside for fresh air. Part of you wished you had joined him. The sorry excuse for a living room was void of anything to show people lived there save for three Maxim posters and something crafted out of bottle tops. You were handed a red Solo cup with contents like death and Hawaiian Punch.
You charge into battle, making your way to the freedom of the porch. The fresh air assaults your nose as the feeling and faint sound of your feet sticking to the liquor-washed floors makes your skin crawl. The genders divide like a middle school dance: girls flock to the air conditioning units like lambs to the slaughter as boys nervously stalk their prey knowing they are outnumbered and are probably walking into tremendous ridicule and rejection. You people watch off the banister as your anxiety climbs for the girls who chose to wear 4-inch heels and are walking through the muddy yard.
The door opens and closes with waves of rap music drowned out by the tone deaf screams of amateur karaoke stars followed by the shouts of someone trying desperately to get everyone inside. You finish your poison and saunter back into the barren living room to be jostled by strangers. All of the sudden, it hits you: you've never been more starving in your life. You dance and elbow your way back through the crowd, your shirt changing color with the showering liquid coming from the bucket and keg. You breathe in as you power through the doorway (doorways always seem to be crowded with the people who can't make up their mind) and exhale when you've broken free from the trap of a house you've fallen into. How long were you there? Is your phone still charged? Did you come here with someone you were supposed to get before you left? You can't remember.
The only thing you know is that it's time to go get pizza.
