The door to Liam's apartment swung open with a creak, the dim light spilling into the hallway like the last shred of dignity his friends had left. Midnight, or maybe a little after. Not that it mattered. Not to them. The night had devolved into one big blur of cheap beer and crushed dreams—the Underlight Runners had failed miserably, and now, well… now this.
Matt stumbled in first, all broad shoulders and beer-stained clothes, with Alex hot on his heels, eyes glassy like he was barely holding onto the last shred of consciousness. Rachel was in the back, of course, smug as ever, because she could hold her liquor—well, compared to those two buffoons.
Liam closed the door with a sigh, already feeling the headache creeping up behind his eyes. He turned to the drunken circus stumbling around his living room.
"Right, listen up, you degenerates," he started, running a hand through his blond hair. "If any of you dares to vomit on my floor—or anywhere other than the sink—you'll be cleaning it up before you pass out. Got it?"
Matt gave a sloppy salute, grinning like a kid who'd just been handed the keys to a candy store. "Aye, aye, Cap'n!"
"Perfect guests, mate," Alex mumbled, his words slurring together as he leaned heavily on the back of the sofa. "No mess. No trouble."
Liam rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.
Just as he was about to give them further instructions on not wrecking his apartment, Matt and Alex exchanged a look. A dangerous look. The kind of look that said, Let's make bad decisions.
Then, like a pair of drunken rhinos, they bolted down the hallway.
"First one to the bed!" Matt hollered, his voice bouncing off the walls.
Alex tripped over his own feet but kept going, shouting, "I called it! It's mine!"
Liam's heart dropped into his stomach. The bedroom. Rose.
"NO!" he shouted, panic shooting through him like a jolt of electricity. He dashed after them, catching up just as Matt's hand was about to twist the doorknob.
Liam threw himself between his friends and the door, arms outstretched. "Stop! Right there."
They both skidded to a halt, eyes wide, faces slack with confusion. Matt blinked, looking up at Liam like a lost puppy. "What's the problem? We're just gonna crash, man."
Alex gave a weak nod. "Yeah, need a bed. Yours is... nice, big… comfy."
Liam crossed his arms, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "You two are not stepping a foot into my bedroom tonight. I don't care if the world outside is on fire. I don't want the place reeking of alcohol and whatever else you've been rolling around in."
"You keep sticking us in that death trap of a guest room," Alex whined, rubbing his neck.
"Seriously, mate, the last time we slept in there, I woke up feeling like I'd been in a fistfight. My back still hasn't forgiven you."Matt chimed in, dramatically rubbing his shoulder.
"That mattress is like concrete. I'm convinced you've secretly lined it with bricks."
Liam rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad."
"Not that bad?" Matt scoffed. "It's a disaster, mate. The floor would be comfier."
Alex nodded in agreement. "I'd rather take my chances on a pile of rocks."
Liam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're not sleeping in my bedroom tonight. I've got standards, and your sweat and alcohol stench aren't part of them. Now go back to the guest room and deal with it."
Matt and Alex groaned like children denied a treat, their faces contorting in exaggerated disappointment.
"Think of the cold, Liam!" Alex added, clutching at his chest like he was about to faint. "We'll freeze! We'll die! Do you want our deaths on your conscience?"
Liam groaned. "You'll be fine. You're not getting in here."
"Fine," Alex muttered, casting a longing look at the door. "But if Matt kicks me in his sleep, I'm coming back here."
Liam exhaled, relieved. "Guest room. Now."
As Matt and Alex trudged off like scolded children, a voice called out from the living room.
"Oh, look at that. The boys lost," Rachel's voice oozed with smugness. She stretched out on Liam's sofa like she owned the place, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on her face. "Guess the lady gets the sofa, huh?"
Liam narrowed his eyes. "That's my sofa."
Rachel raised an eyebrow, looking as comfortable as ever. "Oh, is it? Hm. Feels like mine now."
Before Liam could respond, Matt and Alex stumbled back into the living room, looking forlorn as they eyed the sofa.
"Rach," Matt said, his voice soft and pleading. "Can you move over a bit? We'll squeeze in."
Rachel sat up, crossing her legs as she smirked at them. "Excuse me? Move over? For you two?" She gave them a look of mock horror. "Where are your manners? Ever heard of 'ladies first'?"
Alex groaned. "Rach, seriously. We'll fit."
Rachel leaned back, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Boys, boys... I'm a lady. You're supposed to be gentlemen. Now, act like it and find yourselves somewhere else to sleep. I need my beauty rest."
Matt threw his hands in the air. "You punched a guy in the face last week for spilling your drink!"
Rachel blinked, all innocence. "Exactly. Now imagine what I'd do if one of you tried to take my spot."
Liam watched the chaos unfold, unable to suppress a grin. "Alright, enough," he said, tossing a blanket at Matt and Alex. "You two get the guest room. Rachel, enjoy the couch. And remember—keep it down. One more word out of you, and you'll all be cleaning my place in the morning."
Rachel waved him off, already half-asleep. "Yeah, yeah, Dad."
Liam shook his head, watching as Matt and Alex bumbled toward the guest room, still grumbling under their breath.
As the noise finally started to die down, Liam allowed himself a moment of peace, leaning against the doorframe. But his mind was already elsewhere, drifting to Rose, who was tucked away in his bedroom. His secret. His complication.
He cast a quick glance toward the door, his chest tightening.
"Guess it's just you and me again."
And with that, the night descended into quiet, the chaos finally settling... for now.