It all started with your lovesick depression. Yes, you were lovesick. You never had someone to cuddle with, someone to talk with, and someone to hold hands with, nope. The only person that you wanted to do those things with didn’t think of you that way.
And his name is Arthur Kirkland.
You and Arthur have been best friends since freshman year, and now you were both juniors. Or soon to be, anyways; it was summer at the moment.
Back to the reason why you are lying in bed
Not That Drunk
"Stupid Arthur " you grumbled to yourself, taking another swig of your drink, effectively finishing your 4th beer. " And that stupid, freakin' police force, I tell ya *hic* now, they've stolen my best friend!"
Sighing, you crossed your arms on the bar and nestled your head in comfortably. When you felt someone gently tap you on the shoulder you looked up to see Mathias, a regular at the pub, grinning down at you.
"Hey _____," he said, cheerfully running a hand through his sexy gelled up blonde hair. "Where's Sergeant Bushy-Brows?"
You scoffed at the mention of Arthur and straightened up on your stool, so as to face Mathias properly. "That *hic* bloody git," you growled, mocking the Brit's speech. "has ditched me for the fuzz. The fuzz, Mathias." And with that, you jumped off of your stool, threw your arms in the air and bellowed "THE FUUUUUZZZZZZ!!"
Well, that was when all hell broke loose.
A shady Dutch man in the back of the pub