At night, they’ll pre-drink with friends on the tiny patio of their $1,500 a month, 600 square foot apartment. The collection of designer vanilla vodka bottles will continue to on stack up on the cabinets next to their kickball league trophies. When the Redbull runs out they’ll head down and drunkenly walk in the middle of the busy street towards the first bar pumping out EDM from DJ Martín’s laptop.
Someone will puke, another will start a fight and a few will want to head downtown. Eventually it’s 3am. Time to go home, sleep it off and repeat. Congrats Rainey. You will never see me again. Except you The Blackheart. You’re cool.