#that was the last song i listened to on my phone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lettucing · 1 day ago

Text

look of love, rush of blood

chapter three

words: ~8.8k | pairing: jschlatt x she/her afab reader

summary: With Schlatt and Ted's party now in full swing, you're drawn into a lively crowd of new faces- and taught more about one you're already familiar with.

notes: STRAP IN SCHLANNIES, IT'S A LONG ONE!!

1) the song mentioned during the balcony scene is meant to be no. 1 party anthem by arctic monkeys aka the song this fic was inspired by (go give it a listen if you're not familiar)!! there isn't really a 100% confirmed meaning behind the song, so i based it on my own interpretation & ones i've seen online in the past . 2) i went ham with some ramblings of adoration for new york bc i'd literally KILL to have a convo with schlatt about growing up here... so i hope u enjoy the lil peak into my new yawk mind... overall i find it super sweet and i'm pretty proud of how this chapter came out, i hope you enjoy :) !!!! <3

“So, what’s next?” Ted asks, glancing between you, Schlatt, and Joelle. A cheer erupts from down the hall, likely from the latest beer pong game. Schlatt shrugs, nodding toward the noise.

“Wanna play the next round?”

⭑

As the four of you make your way down the hallway into Schlatt’s living room, the air thrums with energy. Laughter, cheers, and the clink of plastic cups meld into a lively, chaotic symphony. At the center of it all stands the familiar grey folding table, where the current game of cup pong is clearly nearing its conclusion—just a few cups remain on each side. Schlatt steps forward, casually placing his phone on the edge of the table. “We’ve got next.” he announces, his tone easy as he gestures back towards where you were standing. One of the players glances up, meeting Schlatt’s gaze with a nod of acknowledgment before turning back to the game. Tension was high as the game came to a close, the team to the far end of the table sinking both of their final ping pong balls into the other team’s cups. The room erupts—half cheers, half groans—as the losers down the rest of the cups on the table. Ted steps between you and Joelle, walking closer to the table and clapping the winners on the back in congratulations.

Joelle flashes you a grin as she walks toward the table. After a round of quick hellos, she turns to you, giving a playful wave to draw you over. You smile awkwardly, realizing how comfortable Joelle is in this chaotic crowd. You wish you could be as easygoing, but it’s a challenge when everyone seems so... effortlessly at home. She gestures to you like a proud mother to the two vaguely-familiar men. This Y/N!” She faces you and Ted adds, “This is Charlie and Tucker, our other buddies staying at Schlatt’s for the week.” You glance at them with a smile, realizing you recognized them from the bar last week, though you hadn’t really taken them in until now. Both were shorter than Ted and Schlatt, with piercing blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. Charlie’s hair was messy and fluffy, one ear pierced, his gorgeous smile bright and inviting. Tucker had a classic short crew cut, with a solid build and muscle mass that was noticeable in the way he stood. He took a sip of his drink and nodded a casual hello.

Jesus, they were an attractive group of friends.

“It’s nice to meet you!” Charlie says, his smile warm and genuine. “Joelle was talking about you when we met. I remember seeing you chatting with Schlatt at the bar when we were heading out.” You manage a laugh, trying to hide your nervousness. “Yeah, I was taking a breather,” you reply, motioning toward Joelle. “This one makes me dance way too hard.”Joelle scoffs, but you notice the affectionate glint in her eyes. “Yeah, okay. I forced you to get out there and shake ass.” Her retort flusters you, and before you can respond, Schlatt’s voice booms from the opposite end of the table. “Hey, can we get this show on the road, please?”

Charlie pulls a face at you, his expression comical, as if to say ‘we were talking, but I guess I better move’. You smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll come back to this later. It was great meeting you.” “Yeah totally, same here!” he replies with a grin, stepping away. Meanwhile, Ted and Tucker dap eachother up as Ted strides over to join Schlatt at their side of the table.

“Alright, ladies and germs!” Ted bellows, his deep voice cutting through the room. “We’ve got me and the big guy versus these two lovely ladies—Y/N and Joelle!”

The room erupts in cheers, shouts of “Yeah, Schlatt!” and “Let's go!” echoing throughout the room. One voice rises above the commotion, cutting through the noise like a knife. “Schlatt, I hope you lose!”

A collective ‘oooooooh’ ripples through the crowd like you were in grade school again, followed by laughter and scattered claps. You follow the voice to its source, a guy with shaggy black hair and a bright pink hoodie leaning casually against the wall near the couch on Schlatt and Ted’s side of the table. A smirk stretches across his face, one that practically screams that he knows exactly what he’s doing. Schlatt’s head snaps to his right, locking onto the man like a hawk. “Oh, fuck you, dude. You’re just mad that me n’ Astrid smoked you so bad last time you had to lock yourself in the bathroom for half an hour to ‘take a breather’.” The man straightens, now fully standing and visibly pissed off. “Uh, yeah, because you cheated, asshole!” Schlatt spins away from the table to fully face him, arms flung wide in exaggerated disbelief. His voice rises, drawing a new wave of laughter and hoots from the room. “How the fuck do you cheat at beer pong, dumbass?!”

Ted steps in with the practiced calm of someone who’s seen this exact scenario play out more times than he can count. He grips Schlatt’s shoulders with the firm strength of someone who knows how to handle a hothead. “Alright, alright.” he mutters, his voice like the calm in the eye of a storm. Schlatt grumbles but doesn’t resist, muttering a final insult under his breath before turning back to the table. As the scene plays out, a blonde girl lounging on the couch on your side rolls her eyes, leaning toward you with a knowing smile. “You guys are totally gonna destroy them.”

Joelle lights up, pointing at her with a grin. “Oh, I like this girl already.”

As the game kicks off, Ted and Schlatt waste no time, each sinking a shot with precision that draws a chorus of cheers. Groaning in defeat, you and Joelle lift your cups and take your drinks, the fizzy drink doing little to soften the sting of their early lead. From the other side of the table, Schlatt’s voice cuts through the noise, pointing a finger aimed squarely at the guy in the pink hoodie. “How’s that for losing, bitch?!” he shouts, his grin wide and triumphant, earning another round of laughter and hollers from the crowd.

The more time you spent in the epicenter of the party, the more you noticed Schlatt’s shift in demeanor. It wasnt necessarily bad, just different- The way he’d spoken to you at the bar, or even how he’d just acted with you, Ted, and Joelle in the kitchen 20 minutes earlier, felt like a far cry from the boisterous, crowd-rousing host now commanding the room. The soft chuckles and understated gestures you’d grown familiar with were replaced by loud, triumphant cackles whenever he made a good play, and exaggerated mock-punches to the wall behind him whenever he fucked up. It was like watching a different side of him come alive, a version fueled by the energy of the crowd. You found yourself mesmerized, caught somewhere between amusement and intrigue. Schlatt seemed to feed off the energy in the room, thriving on the attention and laughter that followed his every move. He was magnetic in this setting, his booming voice and larger-than-life antics commanding the space effortlessly. And somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, his attention would occasionally flicker back to you—brief, fleeting glances that made your stomach flutter despite yourself.

Yet, even as he leaned into his role as the life of the party, you couldn’t help but wonder which version of him was closer to the real one—or if they both were, just in different contexts.

Before you even realized, the game was nearing its conclusion, and you were losing– you and Joelle’s one remaining cup facing Ted and Schlatt’s two. You glance at Joelle as she lines up for her second shot after missing the first, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration. With a flick of her wrist, the ball arcs perfectly into the cup, drawing groans from the other side of the table. Joelle erupts in triumph, fist-pumping the air. “Let’s go!” she shouts, and you cheer alongside her as the two of you high-five. Schlatt scoffs dramatically, shaking his head as he grabs the cup and chugs his half before passing the rest to Ted. “Unbelievable.” he mutters under his breath. Ted gestures grandly toward the remaining cups, his voice dripping with confidence. “And it all comes down to this, my loves.” he purrs, picking up his own drink from the floor and chugging the rest in one smooth motion.

The pet name catches you off guard, a flutter of warmth spreading through your chest before you can suppress it. You know it's just part of Ted's natural charm, but this time it got to you. You glance at Joelle, who’s already looking at you with an expression that perfectly mirrors your own flustered amusement. Leaning into each other, the two of you dissolve into tipsy giggles. You don’t notice how Schlatt elbows Ted lightly, the glare he shoots his friend anything but playful—daggers sharp enough to kill. Ted responds with a questioning look, his brows raising slightly in surprise. You and Joelle turn back to the table just as they both snap out of it, the moment passing like a whisper in the noise of the room. Ted steps forward, lining up his final shot with exaggerated focus.

Ted steadies his hand, the room falling into a brief, charged silence as everyone watched his every move. “Let’s do it, baby!” he shouts as he tosses the ball, and for a split second, it feels like time slows…

It misses, bouncing off the rim of the cup and onto the floor. A chorus of exaggerated groans erupts around the room, followed by a round of laughter. Ted puts his hands on his head. “No! Fuck!” He looks at Schlatt, who has squatted on the ground with his head in his hands. “Oh my fucking god. Ted.” You hear him mutter. After a moment he stands up, pointing at the ball on the ground. “Go get the ball. I’m gonna show you how a real fuckin’ man wins beer pong.” Ted scoffs as he grabbed the ball and slapped it into Schlatt’s open hand. “Alright, Mr. Beer Pong Prodigy, take your shot and save us all.”

Schlatt shot him a pointed look before focusing on the shot. “I got this, man.” He tossed the ball with exaggerated precision, only for it to bounce off the rim and onto the floor the same way Ted’s shot had landed. The room erupted in laughter as Schlatt shouted a pained “Fuck!” and dragged a hand down his face. “Oh my god. Oh my god!”

The other guests roared with laughter, some clutching their sides as Schlatt groaned dramatically, pacing back and forth like the weight of the world had just crushed him. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered, dragging both hands down his face now. Ted can't contain his amusement, his grin stretching wider as he pats Schlatt on the back. “You really showed us how it’s done, buddy,” he says through laughs. He slings an arm over Schlatt’s shoulder, the picture of faux sympathy. “Don’t worry, man. We’ll get ‘em next time.” Schlatt just glares. “Shut up, Ted.” he snapped, but there was no real bite to his words. His expression softened into a begrudging grin as he looked around at the still-laughing crowd. “Alright, alright, everyone get it out of your system. Y’ act like you’ve never seen a man miss before.”

Joelle leans over to you with a grin as the commotion settles, offering you the ping-pong ball. “You wanna land our winning shot?” You glance at her, mischievous grin matching your own, and take the ping-pong ball from her. The lack of weight to it feels strangely significant. “I’ll try not to disappoint.” you say with a wink, straightening up and focusing on the cups across the table. Joelle’s volume lowers as she steps back, her voice teasing. “No pressure, right? You’ve got this.” The room falls into a tense silence, every pair of eyes locked on you. Not a single word is spoken, the only sound filling the air is the low thrum of the music. Ted and Schlatt, still recovering from their earlier fuck-ups, glance at each other before turning their focus back to you, half-smiles tugging at their lips. Schlatt lets out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms with exaggerated patience. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, his tone a mix of challenge and curiosity.

You line up the shot, taking a deep breath as you focus on the farthest cup— the last remaining. For a split second, the world narrows to just you, the ball, and the target. You feel Joelle’s eyes on you, focusing on her familiar gaze to distract you from everyone else’s. You flick your wrist, sending the ball sailing through the air in a perfect arc. Time seems to stretch for another moment. The ball hits the rim of the cup, bounces, and then...

swishes straight in.

The room bursts into cheers and laughter, the tension melting away. You and Joelle scream in surprise, throwing your arms around each other in a tight embrace. The victory feels surreal, the rush of it hitting you both all at once. You exchange wide grins, your laughter blending as you high-five. It’s just a game—a houseparty match of beer pong, something you’ve played a hundred times before back in college. No grand prize, no tangible reward for your effort—but for some reason, this win feels different. It’s a small, stupid, fleeting triumph, yet it’s worth every bit of emotional celebration. “That’s what I’m talking about!” Joelle says, pulling you into another hug, her excitement matching yours. “Now that’s how it’s done!” Ted’s booming voice cuts through the noise, and you glance over to see him grinning like a maniac.“Who’s fucking team are you on, man?!” Schlatt’s voice rings out in response, cutting through the rising clamor of the room. His frustrated tone is at odds with the rest of the celebration, but there’s a playful bite to it that keeps the atmosphere light. “What’d I say? Fuck you, Schlatt!” The guy in the pink hoodie shouts once again, his voice loud above the laughter. You catch a flicker of anger flash in Schlatt’s eyes, but it evaporates just as quickly, replaced by a deep breath and a roll of his shoulders. “I’m not even… going to dignify that with a response.”

You glance at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. He’s standing at the table, shaking his head dramatically with arms crossed as he glares between you and Ted. Ted just shrugs, clearly unfazed by his friend’s attitude. “C’mon, man. She crushed it. You can’t even be mad.” He rubs Schlatt’s shoulder in consolement but Schlatt just grunts, trying (and failing) to suppress a grin. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.” Schlatt mutters through his grin. “Alright, alright, you got us. I’ll give it to you.” He pauses as he and Ted down the last two cups of beer, then continues. “But next time, I’m gonna win.” You chuckle, the playful back-and-forth easing any tension that had lingered. “We’ll see about that.” you reply, not quite able to hide the pride in your voice.

As the excitement begins to fade, the crowd starts to scatter, some heading to the kitchen for more drinks. The hum of conversation and laughter fills the space, but it’s quieter now, more laid-back. Joelle nudges you with a playful grin. “That was awesome.” she says, still grinning from the rush of the game. You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment settle in. “Yeah, it definitely felt good to land that shot.” you say, glancing at Ted and Schlatt as they talked. Joelle throws an arm around your shoulders. “I think we’ve earned a drink, don’t you?” With a laugh and a nod, you both head toward the kitchen, leaving the boys to their chat and their mock threats of revenge. The night is still young, and for now, you’re savoring every second of it.

You and Joelle mixed well into the crowd, getting the chance to properly introduce yourselves to the other guests and chatting as everyone refilled their cups. You reconnect with Charlie, the two of you talking about winning and Schlatt being a “little bitch” when it came to losing (Charlie’s words, not yours).

"Seriously, though, Schlatt's the worst." Charlie laughed, shaking his head. “The guy acts like he just lost the Super Bowl, not a beer pong game at his own party.” You chuckle, agreeing. “Yeah, he doesn’t handle it well. But, hey, you gotta respect the passion.” Charlie raises an eyebrow and laughs. "Passionate is definitely a word for it. I thought he was about to flip the fuckin’ table." You both laughed as you caught sight of Schlatt entering the room, joining a conversation by the fridge as he grabbed a Corona. There was a lighthearted edge to the way he was speaking now, the frustrated glint of defeat in his eyes now replaced with something sweeter.

As the crowd around you settled into a relaxed rhythm, mingling and chatting, you couldn’t help but feel the growing ease of the atmosphere. Joelle had joined another group, deep in conversation, and you could feel her occasional glances toward you—she was definitely enjoying the night as much as you were. Then, the music blared louder, pumping new energy into the room. The guy Schlatt had been playing with when you first arrived—Ludwig, you’d learned his name was (thanks, Charlie)—leaned casually against the doorframe, fist raised in the air as he called out to the crowd. “Me and the boys are about to throw down for the next round of pong if anyone wants to spectate!” His voice carried a playful, almost frat-bro energy, drawing a few chuckles from those nearby.

You shrug and follow Joelle, Ted, and Charlie back into the living room, where the couch had cleared. The four of you claimed the spot, sinking into the plush cushions as Schlatt and Tucker lingered behind with a few others. “Jesus, Schlatt, this couch is amazing,” Joelle commented, her voice full of admiration. Schlatt grinned, clearly pleased. “Thanks. The one thing I don’t skimp on is furniture. Right, Ted?” Ted rolled his eyes in response, and you guessed the topic was a sore subject between the two of them. “Man, I loved that stupid, shitty couch.” he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back, clearly amused by the memory. You smile. “Well, now you gotta tell us about the couch.”

⭑

The night continued to unfold around you, the energy of the party shifting in waves. Conversations ebbed and flowed, the sound of laughter mixing with the steady thump of the music. You and Joelle played a few more rounds of beer pong, each match feeling like a new burst of adrenaline. The guys joined in, with Ted and Tucker teaming up against Schlatt and Charlie at one point. The game was a mess of playful banter and competitive energy, but in the end, Ted and Tucker claimed victory, raising their hands in triumph. “It’s all about childhood friendship and smoking weed, baby!” Ted declared, a grin plastered across his face as Tucker laughed and exclaimed with a “hell yeah!”.

With each drink, you felt more at ease, connecting with the new faces around you. The chill music, the spectating comments on the current game of beer pong that Joelle was participating in, and the hockey game that someone had turned the TV onto at some point all blended into the perfect mix of sounds and visuals to keep your tipsy brain entertained. You were having a good time—until, out of nowhere, the familiar buzz of inebriation began to feel a little too heavy, almost suffocating. You shifted in your seat, your whole body feeling hot as the warmth settled a bit too deep. The chatter around you faded into a low hum, and the bright lights from the TV flickered in your peripheral vision, making the room feel like it was spinning just slightly. Joelle’s laughter from across the room was comforting, but a throb began to pulse behind your temples.

Your gaze shifted to the sliding glass door in the back of the living room—was that a balcony?

Without thinking twice, you pushed yourself up from your seat. “I hope it’s okay to go out there,” you thought. “But honestly, I’ll deal with asking Schlatt for forgiveness if it means I’m not about to pass out right in the middle of his party.” You excused yourself quietly, slipping away from the couch and weaving through the crowd.

As you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air hit you like a wave, the sharp contrast to the warmth of the party a welcome relief. Ahead of you, Manhattan stretched out in all its glory, sparkling like a thousand diamonds. The city you loved so much seemed to pulse in rhythm with the distant hum of life, its lights twinkling like stars in the dark sky. The view was breathtaking, made even more mesmerizing by your tipsy haze. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the coolness settle against your skin, trying to force your body back into some semblance of normal. It’s just the buzz, you tell yourself. It’ll pass. You’re fine. Just need a minute.

Leaning against the railing, you took a long, steady breath, letting the fresh air clear the fog in your mind. It felt good to be outside, away from the noise, even if just for a few minutes. The city around you was a quieter companion from this high up and this late at night, offering a softer exchange between you and the view. The muffled sound of music filtered through the glass door behind you, but out here, it was just the steady rhythm of the night, calming and still. Peaceful. And as the dizziness finally began to lift and your thoughts started to settle, you instantly felt ten times better. You shoot a quick text to Joelle to tell her where you had gone in the midst of her beer pong frenzy.

Suddenly, you hear the door slide open behind you. You turned, expecting it to be someone you didn’t really know and preparing for an awkward conversation, but your breath caught in your throat as you realized who’s gaze you were meeting.

Schlatt.

He stepped out onto the balcony, pulling the door closed behind him as he handed you a water bottle. "Needed some air too?" he asked, his tone easy. You nodded, offering a small smile as you took the water bottle from him, cracking it open and taking a sip. The water was so cold it almost burned on the way down like the liquor had. "Thank you." you said, exhaling deeply. "Yeah, i’m good. Just needed a break. Things were... getting a little too much in there." You paused, glancing toward the view before adding with a small chuckle, "I hope it’s okay I came out here. Figured this was a better option than testing how far down the elevator went before I started puking trying to get out to the street for fresh air.” Schlatt let out a short laugh, leaning against the railing beside you, his broad shoulders easing into a relaxed pose. “You’re good, that was definitely the better option.” he said with a grin, lifting his water bottle to his mouth for a quick sip. His eyes flicker over you, usual confident demeanor fading into something a little softer. “You’re alright, though? I mean, aside from needin’ a breather?” “Yeah,” you said, leaning forward on the railing, letting the cool metal press against your arms. “It was just a lot all at once, you know? But this…” You nodded toward the city skyline, the lights twinkling. “This helps.”

“It does,” he agrees. “I grew up here—well, in Brooklyn—and it still gets me sometimes. There’s something about it that just… puts things into perspective. Makes everything feel smaller.”

You turned your head to look at him, catching the way the city’s glow reflected in his eyes. For someone who could dominate a room with his sharp humor and larger-than-life presence, there was something grounding about seeing him like this—still and thoughtful, at ease in the quiet. You’re not sure what it is, but there’s something different in the way Schlatt looks at you now. It’s not a look of teasing or competition, like the one you’d seen during beer pong. This feels... more focused, as if he’s studying you, watching how you breathe in the night air, how your posture relaxes now that you’re away from the crowd. You catch yourself holding your breath, wondering if he notices too.

“Didn’t peg you as the reflective type.” you teased, your tone light.

He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth curling into that familiar, playful grin. “Don’t let it fool you,” he shot back, his voice a little more relaxed, the playful glint returning to his gaze. “I’m not about to start journaling or writing poetry or anything. I just… like to take a minute when I can.”

There was a surprising honesty in his words that caught you off guard. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d expect him to admit, and yet it felt so natural in the moment. You smiled softly, nodding. “I get it. I’m from here too.” His gaze flicked back to you, curiosity sparking in his expression. “Yeah? Explains the attitude.” he quipped, his grin widening. You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Yeah, you’re one to talk. I saw you playing beer pong, I bet you road rage like that, too.” Schlatt let out a bark of laughter, his grin stretching wider. “Road rage? What road rage? Please. I’m a model driver. Always have been.” You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure you are. Bet you’re the guy laying on the horn the second the light turns green.” He shook his head, trying to look indignant but failing miserably, smirking instead. “Nah, I give people at least a solid two seconds. It’s called being considerate.” “Generous,” you teased, leaning on the railing again, your words a bit slower as the alcohol fully settled. “So, what’s worse? Losing at beer pong or getting cut off in traffic?” “Oh, definitely losing at beer pong,” he said without hesitation, his words a little more drawn out than usual. “I can get over some idiot cutting me off on the Belt, but losing? To Ted and Tucker of all people? That’ll haunt me for weeks.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.” He shrugged, unapologetic, his shoulders dropping with a lazy ease that matched his smile. “What can I say? I’m competitive. Comes with the territory.” “Yeah, okay,” you said with a chuckle, the sound light and carefree.

“Anyways,” Schlatt said after a beat, his tone lighter but curious. “You always lived in New York?”

“Pretty much.” you said, turning to face him, the city lights blurry at the edges of your vision. “Born and raised, though I moved around a bit for school and work before coming back. Couldn’t stay away for long, though. I’m not from the city or anything, I’m about an hour and a half out, but I’ve always loved it here. It’s always just… called to me. It has that pull, you know?” He nodded, a knowing look in his eyes, and you noticed the way his eyes squinted just a little more than usual, like he was trying to keep focus. “Yeah. No matter where you go, it’s always in the back of your head, isn’t it? Like it’s waiting for you to come back.” “Exactly,” you said, surprised at how perfectly he’d put it, the words coming easier than they should. You studied him for a moment, curiosity pulling at you. “What about you? Do you ever think about leaving?”

Schlatt tilted his head as he considered the question, his gaze drifting just a little. “I did, for a while.” he admitted, his words slower now, each one weighed with thought. “I lived in Texas for a few years, in Austin. Thought I loved it, but I realized after way too long that it was a shithole, and I missed my life here. Maybe I'd leave again once I’m retired, but it’s hard to imagine. New York’s in my blood, you know? Even when it drives me nuts, it’s home.” You smiled. “Guess that makes you a true New Yorker, huh?” “Damn right.” he said, raising his water bottle in a mock toast. “And don’t you forget it.”

The two of you met gazes, and for the first time all night, you really, truly looked at him.

It’s not the playful teasing or the loud, larger-than-life energy of Schlatt’s party-host persona that stands out now. In this quiet moment, there’s something different about him—more grounded, more present, almost like you’re back at the bar with him. His eyes, usually sharp and full of confidence, are softer now, more thoughtful, like he’s letting his guard down just a little. His expression is calm, and you realize how much this side of him contrasts with the guy who had been the center of attention just hours ago. For a moment, the noise from inside fades into the background, and the only sound is the soft hum of the city around you. It’s a strange feeling—one that pulls at something deeper. You feel it in the air between you, a subtle shift that catches you both off guard. Schlatt’s lips twitch, like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t, and neither do you. Instead, he takes a small step back from the railing, running a hand through his hair, the casual gesture almost self-conscious. “Well… anyway,” he says, his voice pulling back into that familiar, confident tone, but slower now. “You feelin’ better?” You smile, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Oh, yeah. Definitely still kinda drunk, but better.” you reply, a little hesitant to break the tense moment, but knowing that’s what he was trying to do. Still, there’s something about it—the way he subtly shifts back, like he's putting the walls up again—that lingers in the air, unspoken. You turn back toward the door, the party still going on inside, waiting. But there’s a part of you that knows this conversation, this small break in the night, will stay with you longer than the noise that surrounds it.

"Hey, why is it that we only seem to cross paths like this when we're both kinda drunk?" Schlatt asks, ending with a hearty laugh, breaking the silence. You laugh at his question, not fully realizing how true that was until you heard it out loud. “I dunno. Maybe it’s fate.” “Fate, huh? You believe in that shit?" You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe? I kinda like the idea that everything I’m supposed to become is out there waiting for me, but I’d also like to think I still have some say in the matter too.” You take a sip of your water. “What about you? D’you think this gorgeous penthouse with one of the best views of Manhattan has just been sitting here waiting for you for 25 years?” you ask, gesturing around the apartment.

He laughs, shaking his head. "Oh, hell no. The last guy who lived here killed himself in the bathroom. If the universe's been subconsciously calling me to live here, I’m pretty sure it’s not setting me up for anything good." You freeze for a moment, eyes wide in disbelief. He chuckles at your reaction, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm kidding." You roll your eyes, shaking your head. "You're ridiculous." He grins, shrugging. "Yeah, I know."

As silence settles back over the two of you, you hear a familiar song begin playing from inside. The lyrics are muffled, but the beat is unmistakable. You smile, turning your head toward the music. “Did you make this playlist?” Schlatt’s brow furrows slightly at the question, his smile shifting to one of mild confusion. “Yeah, actually. Why? You not feeling it?” You grin. “No, quite the opposite. I love this song.” His eyebrows raise, and you raise your hand to your mouth in a mock-microphone pose, singing along to the lyrics you can barely piece together but know by heart. Schlatt grins and joins in quietly. As the first verse ends, you both dissolve into laughter.

“That was so stupid,” you say, still giggling as you catch your breath. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah, don’t apologize. It wasn't stupid. It was cute.” The blush creeping up your neck betrays you once again, and you turn slightly, letting the music fill the space between you.

Did he just say cute?

Schlatt’s voice breaks the quiet before you have time to think about it. “Kinda funny that this song’s playing right now, huh?” You glance over your shoulder at him, curiosity sparked. “Why?” He hesitates, his fingers drumming lightly against the plastic bottle in his hand. “Do you know what the song’s actually about?” You shake your head. He draws a short breath, almost like he’s steadying himself. “It’s, uh… it’s about meeting a girl at a party who seems so cool, so out of reach, that you end up just waiting around for the perfect song to come on to give you the nerve to go talk to her.”

Your lips part slightly, the weight of his words settling in the space between you. The air feels different now—charged, as though the universe itself had leaned in closer to eavesdrop. “Yeah?” you ask, your voice softer, a little unsure, as you met his gaze. He nods, the corner of his mouth tilting up into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, like he’s testing the waters. “Yeah.”

The world around you seemed to blur at the edges, softened by the gentle haze of the night and your tipsy state. His deep brown eyes, framed by long, delicate lashes, held your gaze effortlessly. As your eyes traced the contours of his face, you found yourself memorizing every freckle, every mole, every faint line etched by laughter and time, all illuminated by the soft glow of the dim light. That warm blush was still ever present across your cheeks, now unmistakable even in the chill of the night. Part of you hoped he’d chalk it up to the cold, but a quieter, bolder part of you almost wished he wouldn’t.

“Hey, would you-” He speaks, words hanging heavy in the air, thick with tension between the two of you. “Would you maybe wanna go get dinner sometime?”

The words hung in the air, their weight settling between you like something fragile and precious. You could feel your pulse quicken, the warmth in your chest spreading outward as his gaze softened just slightly, waiting for your response. Your lips parted, but no words came at first. His question had been so simple, yet it felt like the most important thing in the world. You couldn't help but smile, a little nervous, a little breathless, but entirely captivated by the way he was looking at you, the way he seemed to be hanging on your answer.

Yes please, absolutely, a million times yes.

Before you could manage to squeeze out your answer, the door behind you slides open. Both you and Schlatt turn toward the sound, breaking the moment. A shorter guy steps out, sunglasses perched on his head and a Switch controller in hand. You recognize him vaguely from earlier—Connor, maybe? “Hey, Sch—oh, shit, sorry if I’m interrupting,” he blurts, pausing as he takes in the scene. “I was just sent to tell you Hasan’s heading out and wants to say goodbye.”

Schlatt sighs, a deep red flush settling over his face as he stands from leaning his forearms on the railing. “Of course he does.” he mutters under his breath. He flashes a quick look at you, his expression softening for just a split second. “I’ll be right back.” he adds, before turning toward Connor and walking inside. Schlatt walks off, and Connor just looks at you. “You comin’ in?” He asks, and you nod. “Yeah, thank you.”

You glance at your phone, your heart skipping as you realize it’s nearly 3 AM—how long had you been outside? You start to think it’s probably time to find Joelle and head back to your apartment. The time spent outside, combined with the water bottle Schlatt had brought you and the emotional conversation you’d just shared, definitely sobered you up a bit—but any progress you had made had immediately been thrown off by Schlatt’s question, head now spinning for an entirely different reason. Nerves? Excitement? Maybe both?

Glancing around, you notice that several people had already left, leaving a smaller group huddled on the couches, engrossed in a video game. As you scanned the crowd, your brain zeroed in and focused when you realized Joelle was nowhere to be seen. You take a step forward, then stop in your tracks, scanning the room for a face you could confidently put a name to. You spot Tucker leaning against the wall, and quickly make your way over. “Hey, do you know where Joelle went?” you ask. “Oh, she passed out on the couch earlier.” Your stomach tightens, and you must’ve made a face because he quickly adds, “Oh, not like, passed out-passed out. Just fell asleep.” He gestures toward the hallway. “Ted took her to the guest room to let her chill. It’s the second door on the left.” Relief washes over you, though it doesn’t completely extinguish your nerves. “Okay, cool. Thank you.”

As you turn toward the hallway, unease creeps back in. You try to shake it off, telling yourself it’s nothing, but the thought lingers: hopefully, everything’s fine. Approaching the dimly lit hallway, you spot a door left slightly ajar. You cross your fingers, hoping it’s the right room—and hoping even more that you’re not about to walk in on something you’ll wish you hadn’t seen. Taking a slow breath, you nudge it open just enough to peek inside. The room is dim, bathed in the soft glow of a lamp on the nightstand. Relief washes over you as you see Joelle, fully clothed, peacefully sprawled on the bed. Her head rests gently in Ted's lap, and he looks up at you as the door creaks open. His fingers are gently threading through her hair, playing with it absentmindedly as he scrolls through his phone. "Hey.” he says, a soft smile forming on his lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hey." you reply, matching his quiet tone to avoid waking Joelle as you move over to sit on the edge of the bed, near her legs.

“She’s fine,” he says quietly, preempting any questions. “Just needed a place to crash. She conked out waiting for her turn on Mario Kart.” You give a small nod, the tension in your shoulders easing a little. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Thanks for making sure she’s okay.” you say softly. Ted’s eyes flicker toward Joelle before returning to you, his voice still quiet but steady. “Yeah, no problem. She’s a sweetheart.” You smile at his words, feeling a warmth settle over you in the quiet of the room. “Yeah, she is.” you agree, glancing at Joelle again, her chest rising and falling with every soft breath.

After a moment, you break the silence. “We should probably get going soon.” You place a hand on Joelle’s leg, rubbing it gently to wake her up. “Hey, Jelly.” you call softly, volume at a slightly higher level. She stirs, letting out a small grunt, and Ted chuckles under his breath. “Hmmm…? Y/N?” she murmurs, blinking slowly as she starts to wake up. “Yeah, it’s me.” You respond, smiling. “We’re still at Schlatt’s, you fell asleep. I’ll give you a couple of minutes to wake up, but we’re gonna head out soon, okay?” She sighs, rubbing her eyes. “Okay.” As she opens them, her gaze flicks through a few emotions before settling into a grin when she realizes she’s lying in Ted’s lap. “Oh hey, cutie.” she says, her voice light. Ted lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh hey, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes, smiling playfully as you stood up from the bed. “Okay, I’ll be back for you in ten minutes. I better not catch any funny business when I come back!” you say, adopting a mock parental tone. Joelle giggles, and as you turn to leave, you throw them an accusatory glance through the crack in the door. “I see everything.” you mutter, closing the door softly behind you with a smile. You turn your back to the wall, sliding down until you're sitting on the floor. You pull your phone out and scroll for a moment, but before you can get too lost in it, you hear the sound of a door shutting at the opposite end of the hall.

“What’s goin’ on over here?”

You look up to find Schlatt walking toward you with a beer in hand, that familiar grin on his face. You can't help but smile in return. “Another beer? You might wanna slow down there, dude.” He scoffs, closing the distance and sliding down to sit against the opposite wall. He bends one leg to fit across from you in the narrow hallway. “I’m 6’3 and 250 pounds. It takes a lot more than what I’ve had tonight to get me drunk.” You raise an eyebrow, stifling a laugh as he finishes the sentence with a small hiccup. “Right.”

Changing the subject, you gesture behind you toward the guest room. “Ted and Joelle are in there,” you explain. “She fell asleep on the couch earlier, so he was just keeping an eye on her while she napped. We’re heading out soon, but I figured I’d give her a few minutes to wake up and say her goodbyes. I told them no funny business.” Schlatt takes a swig of his beer, eyes narrowing. “There better not be any funny business. I’ll kick Ted’s ass if he tries anything in my house.” You laugh, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

“Thank you for inviting us,” you say, your gaze meeting his again. He smiles. “Yeah, anytime. Although, I’m not sure how many more parties like this I’ll be throwing. I’ve been over it for the last, like, two hours.” he adds, a slight weariness in his tone. You grin. “The curse of being the life of the party, huh?” He nods. “Yep. Guess so.” The smile still lingers on his lips, but his eyes carry a different weight, something hidden beneath the surface of his words.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks, his eyes gleaming with a quiet, hopeful curiosity. “Yeah, I did!” you reply with a small smile, feeling the warmth of the night settle around you. “I was pretty nervous at first, with Joelle and I being the only ones who didn’t know everyone else, but it worked out. Everyone was super nice.” He nods. “Good. I’m glad.” The two of you sit there together, the hum of the party still floating through the air from the living room. You notice him absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his crewneck, his gaze distant as though his thoughts are far away. Before you can ask what’s going on in that (frustratingly unreadable) mind of his, his eyes flick up to meet yours– that confident glint you recognized from earlier was back.

“About what i asked earlier.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he continued. “I know I pointed out how we’ve only ever crossed paths while we’re getting drunk, but.. I dont need the alcohol to want to hang out with you. You’re cool, you’re easy to talk to, i just…” he pauses. “Would really like to see you while i’m not already four beers deep. And that’s crazy coming from me, ‘cause I love to drink.” he ends the sentence with a small laugh, and you smile, looking away from him to distract from the major blush creeping across your face.

Was this seriously happening? The handsome guy you met at the bar last week, the one who was textbook-definition your type, texted you all week, invited you to his party, and now was asking you on a date? Not to mention, your best friend was currently getting into it with his best friend. Either the universe was answering every prayer you’d ever sent its way, or it was setting you up for the most gloriously humbling disaster of your life.

Pulling yourself from your swirling thoughts, you glance back at him. There’s a flicker of nerves in his expression, something endearing and almost vulnerable. You smile, letting your words tumble out before overthinking them.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

He raises his eyebrows, his lips twitching into a playful grin. “‘I’d like that’? I work up all this courage to ask you out on a completely stone cold sober date, and all you’ve got for me is, ‘I’d like that’?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You’re such a diva.” Crossing his arms, he leans back against the wall, the familiar shit-eating grin spreading across his face like it never left. “Nah, I wanna hear you say it.” You shoot back. “Are you serious?” “Dead fuckin’ serious,” he replies, nodding with feigned seriousness, the laughter already breaking through his voice. “You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Fine. Yes, Schlatt, I’ll go on a date with you.” “Sober?” he presses, his tone teasing but his eyes sparkling with real amusement. “Yes,” you reply, drawing out the word dramatically. “Completely sober. I promise.” He nods, his grin softening into something almost boyish. “Alright. That’s what I like to hear.”

He leans back against the wall, clearly pleased with himself, and takes a sip of his beer. You can’t help but shake your head, a grin tugging at your lips as you watch him. The room feels a little warmer, the noise fading into the background as the moment lingers between you.

“So,” you tease, breaking the silence, “where does a guy like you take someone on a sober date?” Schlatt smirks, tilting his head as if he’s deep in thought. “Oh, you know, somewhere real high end for you. Probably a dive bar—” he lets out a fake wince. “Wait, can’t do that. Forgot the ‘sober’ part.” You laugh, sticking him with a soft punch to the leg. “Very funny.” He chuckles, the sound low and easy. “You know me.”

The two of you sit, chatting and laughing, the hallway conversation stretching longer than you’d realized. A glance at your phone jolts you back to reality: 3:54 AM. “Jesus, okay, I really need to go home. Where’s my roommate?” you mutter, pushing yourself up from the floor.Schlatt stands as well, adjusting his crewneck as he pushes off from the wall. You turn to the door of the guest room, knocking lightly. When no response comes, you knock again, louder this time. Still nothing. Schlatt rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Let’s go, Ted. Let the poor woman go home.” Without hesitation, he grabs the handle and swings the door open.

Both of you freeze.

Joelle is straddling Ted’s lap on the edge of the bed, the two completely lost in a heated make-out session. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Schlatt blurts, shielding his eyes dramatically. “Didn’t Y/N specifically say no funny business?!” Joelle pulls back, breathless but grinning sheepishly, while Ted groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Could’ve knocked.” Ted mutters. “I Did! Twice!” you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air with a smile of disbelief. Schlatt crosses his arms. “Honestly, Ted, this is just embarrassing. Under my roof? I’d say you’re better than this, but i think we both know that’d be a dirty fuckin’ lie.”

Joelle laughs, still perched on Ted’s lap, clearly unbothered. “Alright, alright, you’ve caught us. Let me grab my stuff, and we’ll head out,” she says, sliding off Ted and smoothing her hair with zero urgency. Ted huffs, his cheeks flushed as he stands, adjusting himself and shooting Schlatt a pointed look—half sheepish, half murderous, as if to say I’m going to strangle you for this. Schlatt, of course, is utterly unfazed, leaning further into this mock-authoritative dad persona. “You are not sleeping in that bed tonight.” Schlatt says, leveling a dramatic finger at him. “Clean sheets, Ted. You don’t deserve them.” Ted throws his hands up in frustration, though his smirk betrays his disamusement. “Fine. Couch it is. Happy, Dad?” “Ecstatic,” Schlatt fires back, his smug grin growing. “Now get the fuck ‘outta here before you traumatize Y/N and I any further.” Ted scoffs. “Oh, please. Like you haven’t done worse in less respectable places.” he continues as he saunters out of the room. Schlatt’s grin widens, unrepentant as he follows his friend out. “Yeah, but I don’t get caught. Rookie mistake, my man.”

You shake your head, still laughing as Joelle grabs her bag and slips on her shoes. “God, they’re worse than us,” she mutters, rolling her eyes affectionately and flashing you a grin. “Seriously,” you snicker, motioning her toward the door. “Let’s get out of here before whatever they’ve got rubs off on us. I’m not ready to start sucking at beer pong too.”

As you step back into the main room, only a small group of people remains, gathered around the couches and fixated on a YouTube video playing on the TV—its chaotic humor incomprehensible out of context. You and Joelle make your way over to say your goodbyes, exchanging a few high-fives and Instagram handles along the way. It warms your heart to hear that these creative, talented content creators enjoyed your company as much as you did theirs. You bid your dramatic goodbye to Ted, who you actually found yourself becoming a lot better friends with than you expected. He was a goofball, but he was genuine.

As you turn, you spot Schlatt leaning against the wall next to the front door, his gaze fixed on you. A small smile tugs at your lips as you approach him. “So,” he says with a grin, his voice low and easy. “how’s next Wednesday at 6:30 sound?”

Your heart flutters at the thought—Schlatt, actually taking you out on a date.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply, a smile playing on your lips. “Where are we going?” He shrugs, his grin shifting to something more sheepish. “Honestly? I have no idea yet. Didn’t expect to get this far. But I’ll let you know.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Right.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ted and Joelle exchanging hugs and saying their final goodbyes. You glance back at Schlatt, warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest unmistakable—and for once, it’s not the result of alcohol.

“Well,” you say softly, holding his gaze, “thank you for the party. I’ll talk to you later, and…” You smile sweetly, your voice light. “I’ll see you Wednesday at 6:30.” Schlatt’s grin widens, and his eyes light up in a way that makes your cheeks flush. “I’ll be there.” You scoff playfully. “You better. I know where you live now—I’ll find you.” Schlatt smirks, stepping aside to open the door for you. “Yeah, I bet.”

You take a step back, lingering just a moment longer. “Goodnight, Schlatt.” He smiles, leaning on the doorframe, Ted looming behind him. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He extends a goodnight to Joelle as well, and the two of you set off down towards the elevators.

As you hear the door latch behind you, Joelle nudges you with her elbow. “That was cute, what was that?” You grin, still feeling the warmth of the moment. “God, Joelle, I have so much to tell you.”

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