The karaoke bar sat tucked between a convenience store and a laundromat, its glowing neon sign buzzing faintly in the humid night air. From the outside it didn't look like much, just another late night hangout spot but inside it was alive with mismatched laughter, music, and the scent of sweet syrupy drinks that stuck to the air.
Ty hesitated as he stepped through the doors, his eyes immediately narrowing against the flashing lights and pounding beat of a pop song that wasn't even being sung correctly. No, it wasn't the recording at all, it was Chris, standing in a karaoke booth with a mic in hand, absolutely butchering the melody at top volume.
"Sing it, baby!" Chris howled, his voice cracking like someone had shoved glass through a megaphone.
The poor speakers rattled. The staff didn't even flinch.
Ty rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Why… am I here?" he muttered.
"Because I invited you," Chris answered cheerfully, though his answer came between wheezing breaths and off key yells.
Donovan was already in the booth, sitting cross legged against the cushioned bench with his usual calm expression. He didn't seem bothered at all by Chris' volume, which only made Ty more irritated. He shoved the door open and slid into the booth, slamming it shut behind him to muffle the chaos from outside though it didn't make much difference.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Ty grumbled, holding both ears. "You're gonna burst my eardrums, man."
Chris either didn't hear him or didn't care. He was busy kicking one leg up on the table, singing like the stage belonged to him.
"AND IIIIIIIIIIIWILL ALWAYS LOVE YOOOOOUUUUU"
The notes came out like a dying car engine.
Ty snapped his head toward Donovan. "How are you not in pain right now?"
Donovan reached up casually and tugged one earplug halfway out. He gave Ty a small smirk. "I came prepared."
"You" Ty nearly lunged at him. "You dick! You sat here letting me suffer alone?"
Donovan's shoulders shook in silent laughter, though he didn't answer.
Ty cursed under his breath. He was seconds away from grabbing Chris by the throat when suddenly the glass door to the booth swung open.
A young man with messy brown hair tied up under a cap leaned halfway inside, a wide grin on his face. He wore an apron that marked him as an employee, but judging by his behavior, he didn't take the role too seriously.
"Did someone say high notes?!" Gully shouted.
Before Ty could ask who the hell that was, the guy vaulted halfway over the counter outside, abandoning his espresso machine like it had personally offended him. He sprinted to Chris' side, grabbed the second mic, and immediately joined in, thrusting his hips dramatically.
"DON'T STOP BELIEEEEVIN'!"
Chris shouted, "WRONG SONG, BRO!"
"WHO CARES?!" Gully howled, humping the air.
Ty stared in horror, pressing his palms harder to his ears. "I can't do this. I can't."
"Please strangle me first," Donovan muttered dryly, though Ty noticed he hadn't even taken his earbuds out yet.
Chris and Gully were now feeding off each other's energy like two drunk pigeons on caffeine. One was stomping on the table, the other was whipping the microphone cord like a lasso. The booth shook with their chaos.
A waiter stepped in hesitantly, tray balanced in his hands. His name tag read Manu. He blinked at the spectacle of Gully practically dry humping the booth wall and sighed.
"Order?" Manu asked flatly, as if none of this was out of the ordinary.
"Oh yeah!" Chris dropped the mic, slapping the songbook open with his palm. "Food time, guys."
Ty leaned his forehead against the table, groaning. "Thank god."
Everyone scrambled to order noodles, fried chicken, fries, dumplings, and drinks. Gully, mid hip thrust, froze when Manu's eyes flicked to him.
"Aren't you supposed to be at the counter?" Manu asked.
Gully laughed awkwardly, scratching his head. "Ah… you saw that."
"Everyone saw that."
"Right. Yeah. I'll… I'll go back."
"Good idea."
The entire booth burst into laughter as Gully ducked out like a scolded child. Chris leaned back, snickering. "Man got caught in 4K."
"Shut up," Ty muttered, though the corner of his mouth betrayed the start of a smile.
A few minutes later, though, Gully returned balancing plates with both hands. Manu trailed behind him, clearly covering his station for a bit.
"Got a break," Gully announced proudly, sliding the food onto the table. "Fifteen minutes of freedom, baby!"
The smell of fried food and sweet drinks filled the booth. Everyone dug in at once, banter flying across the table. Chris kept tossing out smart ass comments between bites, and Gully was quick to fire back. Ty found himself laughing despite himself, though he'd never admit it out loud.
It was… chaotic, yes. But kind of fun.
At least until things got weird.
Halfway through their meal, Ty noticed a heavy warmth spreading through his chest. Not the normal kind of warmth from food or laughter that was thicker, heavier, almost dizzying. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head. Across the table, Donovan's brow furrowed faintly, but he said nothing.
Chris, of course, noticed nothing at all. He was too busy snorting soda out of his nose from one of his own jokes.
Gully flopped dramatically onto the bench, giggling uncontrollably. "Why's everything so… funny?"
Ty laughed too, though it felt wrong in his throat. His head grew light, his stomach buzzing. Everyone started cutting up, their voices rising in pitch and volume. Jokes that weren't funny became hysterical. Arguments over fries turned into full on debates. The booth felt like it was spinning, but none of them cared.
They rode that wave of nonsense until one by one, they collapsed against the benches.
When Ty opened his eyes again, the booth was dim. His head pounded. He groaned, sitting up. Chris was still awake of course he was sitting cross legged on the floor with a controller in hand, blasting video game sounds through the speakers.
"Rise and shine, losers!" Chris cackled. "We're late! College starts in like, thirty minutes!"
Ty cursed loudly, clutching his head. Donovan straightened beside him, his eyes narrowing sharply. Unlike the others, he didn't look confusedhe looked calculating.
Something had clicked in his mind.
"Wait." Donovan stood abruptly, scanning the table. He bent down, shifting empty plates aside until his hand closed on a crumpled slip of paper. He unfolded it silently, his face growing darker.
Then he crushed it in his fist.
"Which one of you idiots ordered alcohol?" Donovan's voice cut sharp through the haze.
Everyone froze.
His eyes locked immediately onto Chris.
"Why me first?!" Chris gasped, hand clutching his chest in mock betrayal.
Donovan didn't blink.
Chris laughed nervously, tugging at his collar. "Okay, okay but listen! I swear I thought it was, like, a fruit punch thing! The menu had pictures! It looked so fruity and colorful and"
"You absolute dumbass," Ty groaned, dragging his hands down his face.
Donovan pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience visibly thinning. The rest of them groaned, piecing together what happened.
Chris' sheepish grin only made it worse.
"Oops?"