Throw a party

I got home from work one Friday night to hear, as I made my way up the stairs, the thumping bass and shouted conversations of a house party coming from the third floor. I sighed. I should have seen this inevitability coming. Inside my apartment, the dull roar of the music made it impossible to relax. I put my jacket away in the closet and noticed a small pill bottle on the shelf above the coats.

That’s embarrassing. Dale must’ve found my X-Change when he was packing for his trip.

I pushed it behind some scarves: it didn't exactly conjure great memories. I’d bought it for my anniversary because my ex was bi but had never slept with a woman. I tried it twice to disappointing results. It worked, sure, turning me into a raven-haired minx with a striking face, but the sex had been exhausting: a lot of effort for not a lot of pleasure. We broke up not long after.

Seven months ago, not that anyone’s counting.

At least a dozen people above me were bouncing to the music. I wondered if I should call in a noise complaint, but it was only a quarter after ten: they probably wouldn’t even send someone out until after midnight, and I felt lame for even considering it. Instead, I started on dinner and hoped it quieted down soon.

The curry was eaten and dishes washed by eleven, and the party showed no signs of slowing. I paused the video essay I was watching. There was really only one option.

I knocked on their door, and it swung open immediately to reveal a handsome man about my age with bright green eyes and a five o’clock shadow sipping a beer.

“Hey, how’s it going?” He said in a surprisingly deep voice.

My mouth went dry. It took me a moment to respond, “Hey, I live downstairs–”

He grinned, “Oh, shit, really? Nice to meet you. I’m Jack.” He stuck out a hand, and I shook it.

“Grant,” I said, “Look, I was wondering if you could keep it down? I just got back from work, and your music is really loud.”

The smile slid off his face, “Ah, fuck, I’m sorry dude.” He looked genuinely apologetic, then his expression twisted into something more serious. “It’s a Friday night though. It’s kind of the most considerate time for us to throw a big party. Do you have work tomorrow?”

“N–no, but that’s–” I stammered.

A voice called to Jack, “Yo! Who’s at the door?”

“Frank! Get over here and meet our neighbor.”

A round and exuberant face appeared at Jack’s side. “Hell yeah. Nice to meet you!” He held out his fist, and I bumped it.

Why did I do that? I’m getting nowhere with these guys.

“We actually knocked on your door a couple hours ago but no one responded,” Jack said. “Do you want to come in? We’ve got drinks, pizza, wings. Everyone here is chill.”

Wait, what?

“Come on!” Frank said as Jack widened the door.

“You said you don’t have work tomorrow. Don’t tell me you’d rather go back to your apartment?”

“I mean–” This isn’t how I expected this to go. “Is what I’m wearing okay?” I looked down at my sweatpants, t-shirt, and bunny slippers

“Absolutely perfect,” Frank said. “Great slippers.”

Jack put a confident hand on my shoulder as I stepped into the vortex of sound and bodies. He smelled like beer and forests. Men and women chattered over the music. People were laughing, drinking.

When was the last time I even went to a party?

“You want a drink?” Jack asked.

“Sure.”

He mixed me a decidedly unfancy moscow mule, then poured two shots.

“You’ve got some catching up to do,” he said, handing me a drink and one of the shots. “Three, two, one.”

We threw them back at the same time. The dizziness hit my head immediately.

“You good?” Jack tilted his head as he looked into my eyes. He wasn’t being condescending, I realized: he was actually concerned.

“Fine, it’s just been a minute.”

“Let me introduce you to some people,” with a host’s confidence, he slid me into a group of three, two girls and a guy.. “Yo, everybody, this is Grant. He lives downstairs.”

“Oh my god, that’s awesome!” One of the girls squealed. “I’m Jenny.” Her voice sounded familiar.

The rest introduced themselves, and their names left my brain almost immediately. The shot really did a number on me.

“Fuck, I wish I had cool neighbors,” the other girl said.

That’s me. They think I’m cool just for being here.

“My neighbors are assholes,” the guy agreed.

I settled into conversation with them so easily I didn’t realize for several minutes that Jack had slipped away. I joked about how Frank and Jack were the stereotypical upstairs neighbors, always rearranging furniture and tossing weights around. They laughed, but I caught a glimmer of realization in Jenny’s eyes.

I went to take a drink and found that my cup was empty. “I’m gonna get a refill.”

“Ummm,” Jenny said, a finger to her chin, looking puzzled. “Is it just me… or should we all do shots?”

Hell yes.

“Actually,” I said. “A thought just crossed my mind: we should all do shots.”

“If Grant’s doing shots, I have to do a shot,” the guy said.

“So we’re all doing shots?” The other girl said

“It’s a tough call,” I said. “But I think we’re doing shots.”

We all laughed again, and whatever stress had built up over the course of the day melted off my shoulders. Together, we downed a shot.

“Run it back,” Jenny said with a grimace.

We’re just getting started!

“Seriously?” The guy asked.

I started pouring four more shots. The other two shook their heads, leaving Jenny and me with two each.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she said, then drained the little cup.

I followed suit. As she picked up the second, her body swam before me, like a reflection in a spinning mirror.

“Let’s have some fun!” I said.

I took the second shot, and my memory darkened.