The Farewell

The bass thumped through the floorboards, vibrating Ethan's teeth as he stood awkwardly at the doorway. The house reeked of spilled beer and something acrid that made his nose wrinkle. Inside, a chaotic scene unfolded. Bodies writhed on a makeshift dance floor, illuminated by flashing strobe lights. Laughter, shouts, and the grinding of bad pop music filled the air. This was his college farewell party – or at least, it was supposed to be.

Ethan, clutching his grey hoodie tighter, felt a familiar wave of shyness wash over him. Faces blurred in the strobing lights, a kaleidoscope of strangers lost in their own intoxicated revelry. A girl with glitter-dusted cheeks materialized in front of him, a red plastic cup held out like a peace offering.

"Hey, you must be a senior! First time here?" Her voice competed with the music, laced with a forced cheer.

Ethan managed a mumbled greeting, his cheeks warming. "Uh, yeah. Thanks, but I don't drink."

The girl's smile faltered slightly. "Not even beer? Come on, it's a farewell party!"

He offered a weak smile. "Just a cola, please. If that's alright."

Her smile returned, albeit strained. "Sure, one cola coming up."

He waited, watching the girl navigate the throng until she disappeared into the kitchen. Glancing around, he spotted a lone corner couch shrouded in relative darkness. Seeking refuge, he retreated towards it, clutching his phone like a lifeline. As he scrolled through social media posts that felt a million miles away from this cacophony, a sense of loneliness settled over him. This wasn't the farewell he'd envisioned – a celebration of friendships and shared memories. This felt…alien.

Suddenly, a booming voice shattered his solitude. "Hey, new meat! Whatcha doing hiding in the corner?"

Ethan looked up to find three hulking figures looming over him. The stench of beer hung thick in the air. The leader, a muscular guy with a shaved head and a gold chain glinting in the dim light, held out a red cup. "Drink up, freshman."

Ethan's heart hammered in his chest. "Actually, I…Don't" 'actually' me, buddy. It's a party. We don't discriminate against drinks here." The guy shoved the cup into Ethan's hand, his grip tight. "Drink."

Fear prickled at Ethan's skin. He'd never been good at standing his ground, and these guys emanated a hostile energy he desperately wanted to avoid. His mind raced, searching for an escape, but the only exit seemed to be swallowed by the dancing mob.