Mike was nearly as excited as everyone else was. "Beer!" He exclaimed, hopping out of the van and towards the clubhouse.
Tasha smiled. All of her friends were coming. Even Caleb was coming, making a special trip down from Reno, and college, to hang out.
Then again, all of his friends were there, too. Mike, Anthony, Ritchie, Josh...everyone.
And Cid.
She turned away as she saw his truck pull up to the place.
Reno came up next to her. "What's up?"
"Do you think that Yuffie can support you tonight?"
"What?"
"I think I just might get drunk tonight...just this once."

Chris MacMahon sat in the dark with his new girlfriend and his best friend, Chris Caldwell, who glowered at him from his shadowy perch in the corner. Caldwell always glared, of course, but this time it was at MacMahon.
Lisa and MacMahon? Who'da thunk?
Certainly not Caldwell, who had been vying for her attentions as well as quite a few others.
Oh well. He rather thought he would go mess with the drunks now.
Caldwell and MacMahon don't drink.
Caldwell grinned, harshly. They were weird enough as it is without alcohol interfering with them.
He walked into the midst of people who seemed to be swaying, and happened across Tasha. She was solitary in a corner, not usual for the hostess of a party.
She was alone with a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Hmmm...Tasha doesn't drink either. Strange....
Then Caldwell pushed that thought out of his head as he saw the football players stumbling around, drunk. He grinned.
Now's my chance.

Cid slammed down his fifth shot of the evening. He was beginning to feel the effects.
Alcohol is supposed to drown out your feelings, right?
Well, it's fucking mine up, royally. Cid thought, angrily. He couldn't get Tasha out of his mind.
This fucking sucks.

Vincent frowned. He'd been doing that a lot.
Lucrecia was feeling a little light-headed, and no one would shut up.
Sephiroth walked up, jittery. Vincent almost told him to go away, but scooted over and let him sit near them.
"Lucrecia, what would happen if you could find a donor for bone marrow?" Sephiroth asked, excitedly.
She laughed, shortly. "Unlikely."
"But would you if you could find one?"
She looked at him. "Of course, Sephiroth. Do you think I want to die?"
Sephiroth turned away, looking towards Aeris. "Some people do."

Zack fumed.
Aeris was smoking. Not weed, but cigarrettes.
"This is fucking STUPID!" He exclaimed. Aeris looked around, nervously, and took another drag on the cigarrette.
"Aeris..." Zack sighed. "Look, I know you have problems, Aeris, but you can't get anywhere unless you tell me about them!"
"Fuck off." She said, shortly, puffing on her cancer stick again.
"Aeris, please, stop pushing me away!"
"..."
Zack pulled Aeris up from her chair and drug her to the upstairs portion of the clubhouse. There, he took her into a room, and sat her on the bed. She stared at the wall, silently.
"Now. Aeris." He looked her right in the eyes. "Tell. Me."
She shook her head, tears threatening to escape. "No. I can't."
"Please...Aeris, I..." He paused. "I love you."
The tears that had been paused at her eyelids fell in small drops. She couldn't make them stop. "You don't understand, Zack."
"Aeris..make me understand. I want to. Remember, I love you..."
"I...okay."

/I was thirteen years old, for God's sake./
"Come here, you fucking brat!"
/I didn't know what was going on. It hurt./
The older man stood at the foot of her bed, snarling at her. "Your daddy's DEAD! You're NOTHING! You gotta make me WANT to call you my daughter! Fucking whore!"
/He hurt me. I was only thirteen./
She cowered in the corner of her room, on her bed. The older man pounced, hitting her, marking her face with bruises. His breath smelled of alcohol and tobacco, which he chewed. The breath hit her on the face, neck, arms, wherever skin was exposed.
"Uncle Chase, please! You're hurting me!" The little girl exclaimed.
/How was I to know? By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late.../
He smacked her across the face. "You think that hurts? You just wait...you just wait..."
He tore her clothes from her small body before she could even protest, and clapped his hand over her mouth by the time she'd gathered her wits up to want to scream.
And with that, he pulled his pants down.
/It hurt. God, it hurt. You can't understand...I was thirteen, he was a fully grown man...I hadn't even hit puberty yet!/
"So pretty." The drunk man said, caressing her chestnut locks. He pushed in farther, making her cry out. It hurt. So bad.
By the time he was finished she was bleeding. All over. And she was bruised from the beating he'd given her beforehand.
/That's how it was...for the next few years. I learned to deal with it, to hide it from the outside, to desensitize myself./
"You like that, don't you? You stupid whore!"
"..."
"Fucking ANSWER ME!" He hit her.
"Fine. Sure. Whatever. Yeah."
He penetrated deeper now, riding her as if she were a horse. She simply lay there, praying for it to be over.
/I didn't want it...it wasn't my fault!/
"Stupid slut. You like what daddy's doing to you, don't you!"
No.
"Yeah."
/If I didn't say that he'd hit me again!/
"You stupid whore! You like getting fucked! You stupid slut! God's gonna git you..."
/I stopped believing in God. He wouldn't hate me so much as to force this on me. No one would. If God is so loving and caring, why is he making me hurt?/
The girl sat in front of the mirror, looking at the veins that crisscrossed her wrists, fascinated. In those multicolored tubes sped her lifeblood, her breath.
If she could get rid of the lifeblood, then she wouldn't live anymore.
She slowly picked up the kitchen knife and drew it across her wrist.
It felt good. She did it again. And again, and again. And pretty soon she felt pretty good, so there was no reason to kill herself anymore, was there?
/Why not? I was in so much pain...I wanted to feel it. I couldn't unless I hurt myself./
He fondled her, and she gulped, trying not to feel the embarassment. She shouldn't after all these years of doing this.
But still, it never failed. She always hurt, or always blushed. And he always liked it if she hurt or blushed. And he would pump harder, faster, quicker.
/I hate him. I want to kill him!/

Zack held her close, trying to figure out why anyone would do such an awful thing to anyone.
It was a good thing that he was here and not at Aeris's house, or else he'd kill that fuckwad.
First thing's first, tomorrow morning he was taking her to the police station to file charges against the bastard.

Tasha drank some more JD, and grinned drunkenly. Good ol' Jack. He wouldn't cheat on her, no matter how drunk he was.
Right?
Or not. But it was a good shot.
She sighed. She buzzed, and slightly confused, but still not drunk into incoherance, which is what she wanted at the moment.
She sighed. I might as well go to bed. Lord knows I'm gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.
And with that, she began the loooooong climb up the short flight of stairs.

Cid grimaced. He was gonna chunk it.
He raced upstairs and to the bathroom. Yeah, there was one downstairs, too, but it was full.
He did vomit, and quite a bit. He washed his mouth out and stumbled into an unoccupied room.
At least he thought it was unnocupied.