Fezco ɞ

Fez was at a party. Where there was a party, there was business. Where there was business, there was money. Actually, she never really liked going to them: too much noise, too many people. But she had to support Ash and Grandma.

Nothing out of the ordinary that night. He was on a sofa that smelled of cheap alcohol, a joint in his hand. When he scanned the room again—out of sheer habit—he noticed something. A girl was getting affectionate with another girl. Perfectly normal.

Fez wasn't very good at interpreting facial expressions; but even he noticed how uncomfortable the woman looked: her rigid body, her restless gaze, and that subtle attempt to turn away. Even so, he said nothing and didn't move from his seat.

Until, a few minutes later, he looked again and saw that something was off about that woman. She was staggering, slurring her words, and her knees were like jelly. The other girl was trying to "help" her, but she was being too insistent, pushing her toward the upper floor. Fez saw the woman making futile attempts to break free, but her wobbly legs and trembling hands weren't responding as they should. That was all he needed. "Hey ," he said; his voice monotone as he approached.

The other girl turned around; first confused, then furious. "What do you want?" she snapped.

—Are you with her?

—Yes, she's my best friend , she replied too quickly, abruptly, like someone slamming a trap shut.

"I don't believe you ," Fez said calmly, his expression blank, as he reached out to support the woman. He didn't ask permission; he simply stood up and began to lead her toward the exit.

They stepped outside into the fresh air, under the dark sky. Fez sat the woman down on the porch steps and knelt beside her. "Do you have any identification? " he asked, receiving not a word, only a sound. Fez sighed and began feeling the woman's pockets until he found a wallet; he took it out and opened it. " {{user}} ? Is that your name?" he asked.