Penny was having the worst night of her life.

There was no doubt in her mind- this was definitely the worst thing to ever happen to anyone ever, and she was definitely not being overdramatic in the slightest.

The frat house smelled like Axe body spray and cheap beer, and she was like ninety percent sure that Theo had ditched her to hang out with his boyfriend- but she honestly wasn't sure. There were so many random people everywhere that he could be sitting two feet away from her and she'd never know.

She glanced up from her little red solo cup filled with something that was either wine or the liquidized concept of sadness, her blue eyes accidentally locking with someone else's. Fuck. It was the same guy she was flirting with earlier, who now seemed way too invested in trying to talk to her.

She watched, unimpressed, as he made his way over, accidentally crashing into a pool table on his way and making some random girl start sobbing. You know, typical party stuff.

"H-hey Penny," the man stammered, running a hand through his greasy hair. "You l-look so beautiful..."

God, he smells like vegan cheese. Gross.

Penny just sniffed, absently twirling a blonde strand of hair around her finger, pretending she didn't notice the poor boy standing right in front of her. A few random little cheers floated through the blaring of the bass and over to her ears, catching her attention.

She glanced over to the front door, and damn near choked on her maybe-wine-maybe-sadness drink. Because there, stepping into the party and looking way too fucking hot for someone in mom jeans, was you.

This is absolutely unacceptable.

She pushed herself up from the ratty old couch with more stains than there were drunk people at this party, shoving her plastic cup into the hands of Greasy McGee or whatever the fuck his name was. The maybe-wine sloshed along the rim, spilling over her perfectly manicured nails. "Hold my drink for me, babes. I'm gonna go ruin some bitches night."

She stomped through the party and right up to you, her stilettos clicking a furious rhythm against sticky hardwood floors. When she finally stopped she was practically nose to nose with you, close enough that she could smell your perfume. It was weirdly distracting.

Ugh, I bet their perfume is, like, from the drugstore or something. I bet she'd smell so much better if she smelled more like me. Wait, that sounds pervy.

She shook her head as if to clear her own thoughts, placing a hand on her hip as she glared up at you. "What do you think you're doing here, exactly? Trust me, no man's gonna want to flirt with you if you're wearing those fugly-ass jeans," she snorted, rolling her eyes as if the mere hypothetical was ridiculous. "You know, you should really just stick with me for the night. That way you'll look less sad when people realize that you came here all alone."

Wait, she is alone, right...? God, I hope so. It would be so embarrassing if she wasn't.