Tables and Chairs (Edmund)

[newguy]

John's house was a fucking mess because he was a college kid and he didn't care about anything ever. Fuck Purdue.

John wasn't really a drinker. He was 21 now, and was legally allowed to drink and buy the alcohol for his parties (even though some of the attendees were not of age quite yet), but he wasn't terribly fond of drinking himself. He just knew it was what other people liked to do, and who was he to judge?

And so, with food, drinks, music, and all the makings of a decent get together, John was having a rather good night. Yeah.

[Edmund Webster]

"Fuck Purdue!" Edmund yelled by way of greeting as he entered John's apartment, arm in arm with his girlfriend. A couple of drummers and their girlfriends trailed him, some (if not all) slightly tipsy already, cheering in response to Edmund's outburst. The Panthers had just beaten the Boilermakers 14-6, and there had been quite a bit of celebratory tailgating before the party that was about to take place.

Setting down the six-pack that Cal had just purchased on the coffee table, Edmund made his way across the living room to greet their host, John.

"Hey man, did you tailgate? I didn't see you around," he said. Normally, Edmund stayed away from his drinking friends when he tailgated, preferring chats with his friend's parents and actual food to alcohol. Today he'd done the booze tour with some of the line for the first time, since the plan was to head to John's an hour after the game anyway. It hadn't been too terribly difficult to ignore the teasing he'd received at his reluctance to imbibe - it always seemed so stupid to him to spend a lot of money on something that would just give you a headache the day after. His girlfriend liked to drink though, and so he never really made an argument for himself - he just declined when it was offered.

[newguy]

John laughed, not at all surprised by the emphatic greeting that Edmund yelled. As a bunch of the drummers trailed in behind his sophomore friend John realized that he was probably one of the only drummers without a significant other. Not that it bothered him a whole lot; he had been on and off with a few people in the past three years, so he wasn’t terribly depressed to find himself alone at the beginning of his senior year. He was sure he’d come across someone eventually.

A few of the guys seemed a little tipsy already, which didn’t bother him a whole lot. He knew all of these people well enough to know that most of them liked to party and drink. Hell, most of the freshman partied harder than he did, which just didn’t seem right at times. He went to parties, yes, but he usually just carried around the same open bottle for the whole night. This worked for him as it made other people think he was drinking the whole time so they didn’t bother him about it. Meanwhile, he was usually sober and enjoying watching the drunken antics of others. It was a win-win situation.

"Hey man, did you tailgate? I didn't see you around,"

John shook his head. “Not this week. My parents were up, and so we went out and got some food quick before they left for home.” John lived not too far away, just outside of the State College area, and so when his parents visited him at Pitt for the games they usually didn’t stay very long so that they could drive home before it got too late. It didn’t make sense to pay for a hotel. “Does that mean that you actually tailgated for once?” It seemed like every time the drumline had a tailgate set up Edmund would end up somewhere else, and generally avoided the slightly rowdy group of drummers. John understood, since he wasn’t terribly fond of drinking either. He sympathized with the younger kid. “Figures that the one week I don’t show up, you do!”

Spotting Edmund’s girlfriend come up behind him, John smiled and waved. “Hey Becca,” he said with a wave.

[Edmund Webster]

"Ha, yeah, I did. Don't worry, you didn't miss much," Edmund said, sure that John had seen it all before. He was smiling now, but when he'd been walking around the line, he couldn't help being disappointed that John wasn't there. They'd been at parties and things like that together many times before, and John was one of the only other drummers that didn't drink. Eddy had been looking forward to hanging out with him at the tailgates today. When he wasn't there...

Edmund shook his head. Everything was cool now, what the hell was he still thinking about an hour ago for?

Just then, Becca came up behind him and wrapped her hands around his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. His hand automatically went up to her cheek to cradle it, and he turned his head to kiss her out of habit. The alcohol on her breath was pronounced. He held his breath.

Hey Johnny, howreyouuu? She slurred, her eyes half-lidded. When had she started to drink today? Damn. Masking his concern and annoyance (this was not the first time she'd come to one of these completely soused) with an unconvincing grin in John's direction, he put his arm under her shoulder to support her weight.

"Hey, how about we go sit down?" he proposed, steering her toward the couch. He looked over his shoulder and shrugged at John. "I'll talk to you later."

Eddy was not entirely sure that John had heard him over the sound of the increased number of partygoers, not to mention the thumping of the song - was that Bad Boy for Life? - that had just started to blast over the system. And it didn't look like John would miss his presence either, judging by the number of ladies who had seemingly been waiting for Eddy to leave so they could chat with him now.

Sighing, he let Becca down onto the couch gently and sat next to her, playing the supportive boyfriend. Yes, they were fine. No, they didn't need a drink. Becca was drifting in and out of consciousness, and Eddy didn't dare leave her - there were a lot of assholes and idiots that came to these parties, and he didn't want anything to happen to her.

And so he sat, sipping on a Dr. Pepper, chatting with his friends occasionally. He was alone when Becca woke up.

"Babe? Get me a drink?" she asked, as though nothing had happened. Eddy raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, I think you've had enough. We should probably go," he replied, preparing to stand. Becca grabbed his wrist, nails digging into his skin.

"Youalwaysruin parties for me, dammit. Why don't you justget a littledrunk fer once? Maybe you'd actually be fun - the restuvthe line drinks!" Becca spat, her words garbled. Edmund's mouth opened slightly in surprise. He'd seen her completely drunk before, but she'd never been this bad.

"What the hell, Bec-" he started, but she had relinquished her grip on him and stood quickly, barely able to stay upright while texting on her phone. He stood as well, trying to help her get control, but she batted his arms away.

"Just stay the hell away from me, Eddy. Shaynawhereyou?" she yelled at her phone. Just then, one of her friends came up behind her and glowered at him, putting one arm around Becca's shoulder.

"Look. You're drunk. Just let me take you-"

"Fuck you, Eddy. S'over. S'over. Lessgototheotherparty, Shayna. I wanna Jaegerbomb. Fuck you, Eddy, it's over!" she yelled over her shoulder as Shayna led her away.

Eddy stood in the middle of the living room, in a bit of shock. Had that actually just happened? What the -

Cal came up next to him just then, an opened bottle in his outstretched hand. "That was rough, man. You want a drink?" Eddy took the drink wordlessly and tossed it back, confused and angry.

"Thanks, Cal. Is there anything harder here?"

[newguy]

"Yeah, I s'pose," he agreed, nodding. "I just hate to miss any of it, since each one's a new last for me," he figured that Edmund would realize what he meant. Being a senior, every performance was a last for him. His last game against Purdue. His last homecoming parade. His last (insert whatever events have recently happened involving the drumline here). It was sad, but it was also a good thing; in that dorky, poetic way, it signified the changing of an era in his life. He was looking forward to life after college.

It took John no time at all to realize that Becca was completely wasted already; she could barely stand. "I'm fine," he said, smiling despite the fact that he wasn't sure she was going to make it through the night. John had hosted several parties in his years here at college, and not one of them had ended with a call to 911 for alcohol poisoning. He'd hate for this one to ruin his streak of good luck.

"Yeah, later," he agreed, sad that Edmund had to be whisked away so early in the evening. He and John weren't the best of friends, but he would consider them rather good friends, especially considering that they were two years apart. Most of his friends were seniors or juniors, if not graduates. He didn't have anything against the younger students, that's just how his social life seemed to work out.

A decent amount of time had passed before he realized something was wrong. John was easily distracted by the amount of people congratulating him on the party, or taking about band, or classes, or something. A lot of them were girls, which John wasn't surprised about. He wasn't arrogant or anything, but he knew that he had his fair share of semi-stalkers... he had been told that though he didn't photograph well he was terribly good looking in person.

Over the music he heard the raised voice of Becca, followed by the angry pleading of Edmund. John spun around, watching the scene unfold helplessly. He wanted to step in, to talk some sense into Becca, but he knew that this wasn't his place and it wasn't his battle. He could only stand there and pretend not to be staring as Becca broke up with Edmund, realizing how embarrassing and painful this must be for him. She was drunk, and there was a good chance she didn't mean it and they'd be back together the next day. He'd seen it all before, unfortunately.

He was about to go say something, but Cal beat him to it. Surprisingly, Edmund took the drink that was offered to him and asked for a stronger one. It didn't take Cal long to find something stronger and hand it over. John had to admit that he was a little surprised, but not shocked. Just because he didn't see Edmund drink often didn't mean that he didn't drink ever.

"How're you holding up?" John asked him, putting a comforting hand on Edmund's shoulder. "I'm sure she'll come to her senses in the morning, after a good night's sleep," he added, in case Edmund was really torn up over the events. There was an equally good chance that he wanted to break up with her, just as there was a good chance he was currently devastated. Not knowing which was actually the case, he covered all of his bases.

[Edmund Webster]

Edmund accepted the second drink from Calvin with a nod of thanks, and the hope that he wouldn't stick around. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful - far from it. Sometimes he felt isolated from the drumline, and it was really nice to receive a gesture of kindness from someone who didn't even play the same instrument as him. It was just -- sharing his personal problems with people wasn't something Edmund did... well, ever. The topic usually never came up. When it did, though, in times like these, he really just needed to be alone, to work everything out. He needed to take a walk.

Whether it was due to some cosmic force that decided to give him a break, or the fact that standing next to a guy who had just been publicly broken up with was not really a fun thing to do, Edmund didn't care. He was just relieved when Cal decided to return to the group he'd been hanging out with and let him be. There was only a moment in which he was able to glance down at what Cal had given him -a bottle of Jack Daniel's the size of a flask- before he felt a hand on his shoulder. A little disoriented from the shot he'd just done (his slight frame did nothing for holding alcohol), he turned around with wide, surprised eyes. Some sort of strange relief washed over him when he caught sight of John's face, something he wasn't expecting to feel. Something good in this moment of doubt and pain.

"How're you holding up? I'm sure she'll come to her senses in the morning, after a good night's sleep."

Shaking himself mentally - man, that shot had gone right to his head, hadn't it? he probably should have eaten something - Edmund nodded in agreement. A warm tingling sensation went through his body. He took a sip of the sauce in his hand.

"I'm sure she will. Hey, thanks, John - I think... I think I'm going to go for a walk," Edmund replied, eyes on John and then down at the floor. He became aware that he was feeling a little warmer. Why hadn't he gotten drunk before this? It felt nice. It felt like everything was just going away - shit, until he started thinking about it again. His face, which had shown at least ambivalence a moment ago, turned troubled. "Yeah. A walk. I'll be back, yeah?" Pale grey eyes flashed back up to John's warm brown ones. Very warm. Why was it so warm? "I- I have to go now." And with that, he exited the apartment and made his way down to the parking lot, mind a mess, sipping on the whiskey which became less intense with every swallow.

[newguy]

John knew that Edmund wasn't in a very good mental state at the moment. He could tell that by the simple fact that he was drinking. He rarely - if ever, now that he thought back on it - saw Edmund drinking anything, let alone hard liquor. One of his more expensive alcoholic additions to the party was currently in Edmund's hand, which was a small, personal bottle of Jack Daniel's. After the first sip he could see the immediate change in Edmund's composure, his eyes were wide but there seemed to be a happy expression on his face. No, not happy, but... content. Yes, that was the word. Content.

"I'm sure she will. Hey, thanks, John - I think... I think I'm going to go for a walk,"

John looked over his younger friend critically, as if trying to make sure he was okay enough to go for a walk. He immediately reprimanded himself for it. One, he wasn't Edmund's guardian, and two, he'd only had two sips. He should be fine.

"Yeah. A walk. I'll be back, yeah?"

"Hopefully," John said, only half-joking. "Hurry back, I wouldn't want you to miss too much of the party," he added, hoping this would encourage him to not wander off too far.

"I- I have to go now."

John simply nodded, and watched as Edmund made his way over to the door. Managing to pry himself away from the party for a few minutes, he made his way over to his bedroom window which overlooked the exit of the building as well as the parking lot area, in order to see if he could keep track of where Edmund went. He was genuinely concerned for his friend, though he couldn't quite say why. He wasn't terribly upset or even really drunk, yet there was a worry eating at him, something that made John keep an eye out for him just in case. After all, that's what friends were for, right? To make sure you didn't do anything stupid... he was just a concerned friend.

[Edmund Webster]

Edmund could tell it was cold out. Girls in furry winter coats, miniskirts and Uggs scurried through the parking lot, giggling and shivering, their words turning into white vapor as soon as they hit the night air. The pitiful patch of grass on the island was covered in frost. Wind whipped through the leafless trees; the sound alone was enough to make a lesser man shiver.

Well, a less drunk man, anyway.

There hadn't been time, in his mind, for Edmund to snatch his jacket on the way downstairs, but he was feeling no pain. Apparently whiskey served the same function as a sweatshirt. They should really figure out a way to market that, he thought as he looked for a curb to sit on. The ground itself was littered with little shards of broken bottle glass from some party that had since passed; they flashed at him, reflecting the dim light cast by the lone street lamp as he walked by. Edmund put his hand up to his head. The glass had been pretty at first, but now he was just dizzy. In lieu of a curb, he leaned against a brick wall. It was rough and scratchy on his cheek, but he was not one to complain; the world was no longer spinning and he was thankful.

His pocket buzzed.

Actually, it was his phone, and after he was done being startled he pulled it out and flipped it open, the glow of the screen momentarily blinding to his eyes.

One new message. Open.

'fucc u ed imw/ davee now hes secxy n ima fuc himi hateu'

Jesus, Becca had always been eloquent, hadn't she? Edmund snapped the phone closed and put it back in his pocket, trying to smile. When that didn't work, he slid down the wall and sat, broken glass and all. He would be laughing now if it weren't for this weight in his chest, he knew it. Was he crying? Fuck, no, he was drinking.

And drink he did, for a good ten minutes. Another ten minutes, and he realized he couldn't feel most of his body. That was his cue. He headed back up the stairs to John's apartment where it was warm.

[newguy]

With the bright lights of his room on, at first the only thing John saw in his window was his own reflection staring back at him. And, though he was looking particularly good that night, himself wasn't what he wanted to see. He placed a hand up against the slightly chilled glass of the window and rested his forehead against it, blocking out the glare from his room so that he could see outside into the parking lot.

What he saw worried him. Edmund was out there, and while he was relieved that his younger friend wasn't wandering too far from the party he didn't seem to be looking any better. Leaning against a wall, Edmund checked his phone once before slumping to the ground below with no regard for anything else that may have already been occupying the space beneath him (no doubt left over beer bottles and cans from Dave's party the night before just one floor up).

When Edmund stood up again John leaned forward against the window, as if he could move through the glass to get a better view. He didn't need to, noting that the other boy was coming back inside. Good, because if he had waited any longer John had been about to bring a jacket out to him. The kid must've been freezing!

Walking over towards the door and trying to be nonchalant about it, John waited off to the side to see how Edmund was doing once he walked in. He was out of the way so that there was a good chance Edmund wouldn't even see him. John didn't want to appear overly concerned, he just wanted to make sure that nothing bad had happened in his absence.