Roll-over for reality.
I spot Tracey Sommers across the room. We lock eyes and approach each other, probably in slo-mo.
I spot Tracey Sommers across the room. I yell her named loudly to get her attention. My voice cracks.
Tracey: Hey Brian! Good to see you!
Tracey: Hey Brett? Did I invite you?
Me: You too. Sorry I'm late.
Me: You did not. I found an invite in the trash.
Tracey: I still can't believe you got Third Eye Blind to play my party.
Tracey: Weren't you the guy who said he could get Third Eye Blind to play my party?
Me: Yeah, they're old friends of my uncle. Excuse me for one second.
Me: Yeah, my uncle is a lying sack of shit. Excuse me for one second.
I go onstage to play lead guitar for "Jumper". I finish with a sweet guitar solo and flawless back-flip.
I feel sick and try to casually walk away. I trip over Tracey's glass coffee table, destroying it and her stereo.
Tracey: That was amazing!
Tracey: That- that looked really painful.
Me: It's nothing. Just something I picked up during the six weeks of guitar lessons I got for my 17th birthday.
Me: I think I need to go to the hospital.
Tom, Tracey's ex-boyfriend, enters.
Tom, Tracey's boyfriend, enters.
Tom: Oh man, I'm sorry I made that up horrible nickname for you. You're actually a pretty cool guy.
Tom: Oh man, period-face totally ate it.
Tracey: Agreed. Also, since all your acne cleared up last week, you look a lot like that guy from Dawson's Creek.
Tracey: Shit, the cops are here.
"Semi-Charmed Kind Life" plays in the background. Tracey and I make out, with tongue.
The destroyed stereo plays nothing. Tracey and Tom flee the premises.
Tracey: Let's have lots of no-strings-attached sex before we leave for college.
ER Doctor: You're spending the summer indoors.