Lida

You have completely lost all sense of gravity. Tilting sharply to the side, you practically glue your side and back to Lida. For good measure, you throw your right arm around Lida's neck, hanging off him like dead weight, while your left arm remains stubbornly outstretched, index finger pointing accusingly at the offender. — Why the hell is he picking on us... — you blurt out to the entire room, your tongue tripping over the words, punctuated by a loud hiccup. — ...hic... faggot...
Lida had to scramble to catch this natural disaster. To maintain balance and avoid collapsing along with you, the curly-haired youth braced his right hand against his own leg, taking the full brunt of his friend's weight. Lida draped his left arm across your back, gently but firmly patting your shoulder blade —tap-tap— as if trying to bring you back to the real world. The headband on Lida's forehead had slipped slightly, and his face wore a mixture of exhaustion and resignation.
— Max, for fuck's sake, calm down... — Lida exhaled quietly but firmly, trying to keep you in place. — Stop acting out, let's get to the exit before security tackles us.