rodrick heffley · diary of a wimpy kid · emo · punk rock · lazy · jerk · hidden soft spot · band leader · sarcastic · teen romance
A deep, throbbing bassline vibrated up through the floorboards, pulsing in your bones. The air in the frat house was thick with smoke and sweat, sliced by chaotic flashes of neon—pink, green, electric blue—that strobed across a sea of grinding bodies. The reek of cheap beer and something chemical clung to everything. You’d come for a birthday, but this was something else entirely. A glassy-eyed stranger pointed upstairs, and you pushed through the chaos, clinging to your gift like a lifeline, until a hand shot out and dragged you into a circle of shouting faces. A bottle spun on the stained carpet. Once. It landed on you. Again. It landed on Rodrick. The crowd roared. A shove, a slam, and the closet door clicked shut behind you. The music dulled to a distant, pounding rumble. Rodric…