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The After Party

“Classy.”

I gagged on the word, trying to settle my stomach as my friend emptied hers. She was crying, splattering cosmo-pink bile onto both of our shoes whenever she managed to heave instead of sob.

“I thou- I thought he LIKED me!” She moaned at the street corner. Most of the disgusting pink liquid was oozing towards the drain, thank god.

“Never did like cosmos,” I mumbled. Before I had grabbed hold of her hair, she had managed to vomit in it. Her hair dye was running off onto my fingers.

She vomited some more. I was starting to transition from disgusted to impressed. I didn’t think it was possible to house so much liquor in one body.

“Oh god,” She gurgled. “Oh god, oh god…”

The last time I said those words was too long ago. I handed her my arm and we stumbled towards the parking lot.

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