Due to nerves and a sense of responsibility, Total Breakdown subconsciously started nursing the alcohol and wanting less in general. Their buzzes began to ease, and their vision started clearing in more ways than one. Their focus had been shifted to monitoring the party, not enjoying it. That had to change, but first each girl had to notice this problem. And first on that list was...
"Aimee!"
That call snapped the redhead out of her daze, and made her realize she spent the past 15 minutes mumbling along with the songs from the speakers while walking around one room. She hadn't been dancing - unless head nods count - and only paused to take a sip of whatever she had on hand. She'd barely noticed any of the people around her despite the vast amounts of eye candy, the few she had were given an automated brush off. It was wrong. Timid as she was, having a good time was not a foreign concept. Her eyes were opened, and now it was time to fix the problem.
Aimee followed the voice to its origin, which just happened to be her fellow guitarist. Along with Crystal was a bottle blonde with a full figure and the outfit to flaunt it. Gathered behind them was a group, though its exact size was impossible to determine in the party's chaos. The only thing she knew for sure was none of the potential members looked familiar.
"They're lookin for a spare room," Crystal said. "What'll work?"
"Uh, you hotboxing?" she asked the blonde.
The blonde shook her head. "Game time. We need a door and open space."
"...The guest room might do. Follow me."
The group followed the two guitarists across the floor, conversing as they went. The redhead never bothered to turn and address the group or ensure they didn't get swept away by the rest of the party, leaving her oblivious to anything about them that wasn't sound. She heard one deep bass conversing with the blonde leader about materials, and there was definitely a tenor boasting about the game hoping to drum up more players, but anything else was indistinguishable from ordinary chatter. So far, all she knew was two boys and two girls, not counting herself and Crystal, had just followed her to the guest room.
"The bed takes up too much space," the blonde said.
"It's a pullout sofa," Aimee explained. "You'll have more room once I fold it up."
Crystal said, "I'll give you a hand. Terry, how about you set up around the bed for now."
"Can do. You in too, Aimee?"
"What the hell."
"Then I'll start with you."
Terry reached into her purse and presented the redhead with a white tablet printed to read "SNK." The act was repeated until the entire group was holding the small gift from their leader. Aimee and Crystal could only eye their own with an arched eyebrow, oblivious to their surroundings. All they cared about was finding out what Terry was planning.
"What's this?" Crystal asked.
"Something to keep the game going," Terry answered. "Just in case someone wimps out. But don't worry. No money's involved. Just possible embarrassment. Fuel up!"
"But what exactly..."
Terry gave no oral answer. Instead, all she did was cross her arms in front of her chest. Ecstasy, the rockers concluded.
The duo exchanged looks, and shrugged their shoulders. This wasn't completely unfamiliar territory. Besides Allison's love of the sauce, Total Breakdown had blazed a few times in their van, and Jen claimed to have written one of their more popular songs while on an acid trip. Ecstasy may have been different, but what could the harm be? Depending on the part of the world, it still ruled parties. Without a word, the guitarists swallowed their aids before returning to the bed.
"With that out of the way," Terry said, "let's move on to the game. Tonight we'll be playing..."
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