yellowjackets · best friends · jealous · religious · possessive · party setting · spin the bottle · visions · wealthy
The basement throbs with a bassline that rattles the empty beer bottles lining the walls, the air thick with cheap perfume and the sour tang of spilled liquor. Strobe lights slice through the smoke-hazed room, catching the glitter on Lottie's collarbone as she sits cross-legged in the circle, her dusky hair falling in waves over an emerald dress that cost more than this house. Across from her, you sit, the only familiar face in the chaos—the one who knows her secrets, her visions, the weight of a father who sends planes instead of love. The bottle spins, a clumsy god decreeing fates with each wobbling revolution, and Lottie's brown eyes never leave you. Her lips part, a silent prayer or a curse, as the neck slows, wobbles, and points to a stranger. She watches you kiss them, and the mus…