Work Text:
nathan throws back another cup of alcohol, sitting with his friends at another one of his large parties. this one, however, is special, because he has his arm around you instead of one of the desperate tramps he calls his classmates.
your group is chatting it up with one another, laughing and enjoying themselves with slurred voices. you and nathan, however, weren't talking at all. before coming here, he had expressed to you how he didn't want to go. you definitely didn't either, but his reputation meant that you had to.
when somebody's blunt reached your pinch fingers, you took a hit, a longer one than usual. maybe not to the others, but to you and your boyfriend it was evident that the other was feeling very anxious. when he put his hand out for you to pass it to him, you smirked and instead took another hit, passing it to the person next to nathan before leaning in and kissing him, blowing the smoke into his mouth that way.
this elicited a series of "ooo"s and whistles at the two of you. in return, nathan flipped them all off before turning to you once again.
"you're fucking crazy." he smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. he kept pressing kisses to your mouth, eventually trailing to your chin and neck. everyone around you only gets louder as they watch in amusement.
"nate- nathan!" you laugh, swatting him away. he ignores you, pulling you into his lap and kissing you more, much to the audience's appeal. you continue calling his name..
"nathan. nathan. mister prescott." nathan's teacher taps on the table. his head immediately shoots up from his arms as he looks around and remembers he had been dreaming in his class.
"what." he looks at the teacher, recognizing her as mrs. grant through his blurred vision.
"this is not the place to be sleeping, nathan.." she whispers, "i heard about your break up, and i know it must hurt but you have to-"
nathan's blood ran cold when grant mentioned you. he saw you in the front of the classroom, looking at him along with everyone else. he obviously couldn't hear what was happening from the back, but your friend whispered to you and you gave him a look of pity while nodding in agreement.
"fuck this, i- i need to leave, i'm excusing myself." nathan got up from his seat, shoving all his things in his bag before speedwalking out of the classroom and out the building.
as soon as he stepped through the doors, he rushed to the grass and vomited on it. when people walking by side eyed him, he yelled at them to fuck off through gurgles. without a care in the world, just wanting to be far from you, he headed to his dorm.
once he got inside and could finally relax, his body dragged down his door until he was sitting down. whether it be the hangover or the heartbreak, since yours and his 'break', his days have felt muddled and so different when you weren't with him. everywhere he went, it was like you were there. even in his damn room you were there whether it be in his daydreams or a polaroid hung up on the wall.
it was so humiliating to him, everyone around him had seen him look so torn apart. nobody really even knew what went on with you and him, you both agreed that it wasn't official, you were just going with the flow. this alone made him feel so weak, so angry at the fact that he was so heartbroken over you. one day you were visiting him when he had a breakdown, which was usually okay, but it was one of his angered ones. this time he was however extremely upset, to the point where you had asked him to take a break and figure himself out.
since then, he has been a total mess. he took the vortex club parties up another notch, if that was even possible, to get so crossfaded that the only thing he could think about was drinking and smoking some more. more often than not he found himself even on weekdays drunk texting victoria about how badly he wants you back. each time, she tells him to stop doing shit like this and then it'll happen. unfortunately for him, though, it's just too hard not to and he continuously finds himself drinking again to get your pretty face out of his mind.
eventually, it gets to a point where he's tearing your photos off the wall, stuffing them in a drawer. they're the source of his problems at this point, and looking at them too long has his fingers hovering over his phone's keyboard under your chats.
it's almost every night that nathan is spiraling while cursing to himself,
"i wish i never met that bitch."