Rap-pa-pum (closed)

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg’s not the type to get drunk.

It wasn’t just the fact that the boy didn’t really enjoy the taste of alcohol (he’s more often than not the designated driver, something his ex, who was a self-proclaimed alcohol, abused immensely), but it was also ‘cause the Canadian just didn’t see the point. Feeling fearless and more blunt than usual wasn’t something he really needed, given his normally abrasive and more-or-less transparent personality. It didn’t help that the first time he got drunk ever since he manifested in a telepath almost ended up in a disaster – and like an actual disaster, not just a simple social suicide.

Despite being opposed to drinking for the sake of drinking, drinking because of self-imposed drinking games was a whole other story entirely. What he didn’t expect, however, was that unlike beer pong, athleticism didn’t matter with King’s Cup. And since he was the person his small group of friends saw drunk less often, you’d know they picked on him hard during the game.

One-fifty plus word intro to why he suddenly drunk texting a blonde that didn’t exactly say he didn’t have a chance, but didn’t exactly say he had one either. ‘Cause why not.

Classy Greg. Classy.

[Cameron Osiris]

Cam's Saturday nights were mostly eventful, especially now that school was more or less over. Yeah there was the packing to do, but he was going to hold off on that for as long as possible. Usually when Cam went out, he was the designated driver. He had only ever been drunk once in his life, and he was brave without any substance abuse.

But this Saturday night wasn't like that, no siree. Cam was looking at all the courses he could take, and he wished that someone would just do it for him. It wasn't that he couldn't do it himself, he just didn't want to. With a sigh, Cam continued to frown at his computer screen.

But a distraction came right on time as his phone buzzed. He smirked at the message and sent back a couple replies.



He wasn't going to complain over being called sexy, naturally he was. Of course Cam didn't know who this was! Greg had stolen his number conveniently and unfortunately, Cam wasn't also a mind reader.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Good friends would take their drunk friend’s phone away the moment they see him texting. Best friends would sit beside said drunkie and peer over their shoulder, even whisper what they should text to get the most out of the conversation.

One’s free to take a shot at what kind of friends the boy’s mixed with at that moment.

Greg couldn’t really remember when exactly he told this particular group about Cam, but within seconds of receiving Cam’s text, Naomi Lee squealed loudly and alerted the rest of the group, prompting the not-so-small group of eight people to huddle around the couch Greg was sitting on. It definitely wasn’t comfortable on anyone’s account, but with the alcohol in their system, it definitely didn’t matter.

Greg took a while to respond, partially ‘cause he’s drunk and his motor skills were all but present, but also ‘cause a debate suddenly erupted on what exactly he should say. Fredrick Oliver said he should say ‘Guess who?’. Jules Wayland suggested he invite Cam over. Pyetr Gorbachyov told him that he should reply with a dick pic. All very helpful really.

And yes, of course he’d choose the not-so-good suggestion courtesy of Miriam Florence.

[Cameron Osiris]

A mystery person on the other end of a texting session proved far more intriguing on a Saturday night than looking up and mulling over courses. Technically he had a lot of time to do this, but he was a procrastinator, and for this reason, he knew he could end up losing his scholarship more easily than he had gained it at this rate.

Still, these kinds of moments were hard to resist. The messages seemed flirtatious, and because it wasn’t Matty on the other line, it made it exciting. Was that wrong? Cam didn’t know, but something being exciting wasn’t fundamentally wrong was it?



He would have responded sooner, but whoever was on the other end was continuously typing, and didn’t have a lot to show for it. Cam snickered, leaning back in his computer chair, a hand behind his head. It was Saturday night, who knew what this other person was up to.