Adam runs a hand over his brush cut and winks at his reflection. He tilts his head side to side, checking his jaw line for signs of stray hairs or razor rash.

“Looking good, man.”

His first night out since graduation and he’s ready to party.

He pops the collar of his shirt at himself, makes a duckface, and laughs. Before leaving, he pulls out his phone and uploads a selfie.

#done #party #yolo

Music thumping, girls twerking, boys bopping.

Adam heads to the bar for water and notices a pair of hotties talking over girly green drinks in plastic cups. He smiles at them as he leans on the bar.

The girl with the curls gives him a toothy smile and angles her clevage his way. Impressive as it is, he finds himself staring at her friend with the shy smile and legs longer than school.

Behind them, two bros growl insults not quite audible over the music.

Adam leans in between the girls. “You want to dance?”
One bro shoves the other into the shy girl, who stumbles on her heels and dumps her drink down Adam’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry.” A wave of reddish disco lights highlight her before surging purple.

“No problem.” He wonders if he can still get her number.

Adam makes his way toward the back of the club and into the single stall restroom. A pair of filthy urinals flank the sinks where an old man dressed like a butler hoards the paper towels and an assortment of condoms.

Smiling, Adam passes the guy a buck and wets a couple of towels. As he rubs the sticky green spot on his shirt, a drunk white dude stumbles in, unzips and lets out the night’s beer into the urinal next to Adam.

Adam makes a face and moves away, disgusted as much by the new baby spitballs on his shirt as the smell of sweat coming off the guy.

“Hey, you afraid of me? Huh?” The man turns and points at Adam before he realizes he’s peeing and shakes himself.

Adam shuts his eyes and counts, trying not to clock the asshole who’s just pissed all over his kicks.

The guy laughs.

Adam grits his teeth, thanks the old man and pushes past the drunk, out the door.

In the parking lot, Adam pulls out his keys and clicks open his brother’s SUV. The outside looks fly, but the backseat is littered with kids’ toys and probably stale french fries.

French fries. He thinks about the nearest McDonald’s.

He hears footsteps and turns.

Adam’s gut hurts. So do his fingers. The man ripped the keys away. Adam wants to stop the guy from stealing his wallet.

Nearby, he can see a couple of brass cartridges, shiny under the streetlights. He thinks he should call for help, but the guy takes his phone.

Laughter carries across the lot. The laughter of girls having a good time.

The guy stands and fires again before climbing into the SUV.

Adam watches the shiny brass land.