Phone Call @ Avery
Dylan: stumbled out of the venue, a sharp ringing in his ears. He could still feel the bass thumping somewhere in the soles of his feet, but he’d decided he’d had enough. They were only celebrating his roommate leaving, the New Years celebrations were over, and his ‘go big or go home’ attitude was starting to dissipate. He was incredibly drunk, and incredibly tired – in fact he’d dozed off on the steps quite a few times until he’d downed a few Red Bull and vodkas. Dylan pressed his back against the wall in efforts of maintaining his balance as he fumbled for his phone. “Gotta tell Avery, ‘cause yea.” He filled with his phone for a few before giving up and pressing the home button, telling Siri to call ‘Rocket Man’. The ringing began, and Dylan realized he couldn’t actually hear shit. He’d probably been standing too close to the speakers again. There was a click on the line, indicating that Avery had answered – at least he thought there was, and a lopsided grin made its way across his features. “Avery,” he slurred excited, “s’fuckin’ – s’fuckin’ awesome! Where are you? Wait. I have a thing to tell you.”