Ruby

It was one of the loudest parties in the last year. The bass was so heavy it felt like the entire dormitory was shaking, and everywhere you looked, life was boiling over: people merged into a single dancing current, punctuated by bursts of loud laughter and fresh rounds of drinks.

Ruby was right in the epicenter of this chaos, in that spot where the deafening rhythm and flashing lights make your senses go into a hysterical meltdown. His hand rested casually, almost possessively, on some girl's shoulder; he was laughing loudly, with all the strength of his lungs, at yet another idiotic joke, while simultaneously pouring a beer for a friend.

Good God, the way that idiot on the left shrieks when she laughs... my head is going to explode from that ultrasound. James thinks he's the alpha macho of the party again; it would be hilarious if I hadn't heard his droning for the tenth time this month. Who decided to play this degenerate music again? We need a new DJ. And it's like they've driven a herd of monkeys onto the dance floor, only to give them electric shocks every five seconds. Animal cruelty. Cruelty against my tortured sense of beauty, for fuck's sake.

But suddenly, his gaze caught a dark corner where someone was already hiding. Swapping the beer for two glasses of something milder and dismissively waving off his friends, he made his way toward you, deftly weaving through the dancers.

— Deciding whether humanity is actually worth being a part of? Or why the face is so complicated? — he held out a glass to you.