Parties usually meant early drinking for Max. He wasn’t the most ‘party’-centric person in his sober light, but as soon as the alcohol hit him, he couldn’t help but become the life of the party. His tall frame was draped in his usual leather jacket with his dark eyes hidden by even darker shades. Max had remember his brothers saying something along the lines of ‘you dress like a theatre kid.’ and he never knew what that meant, but his outfit tonight opened his eyes to the comment.
The boy stayed to himself for the first few moments of the party. His hand grasped a brown bottle, taking sips from it periodically. Suddenly, he felt someone bump into the back of him, sending beer down his shirt. “Nice going, Ace.” Max said to whoever had made that move. “First day with the new legs?”