Nitin's DMT addled brain understood Christophe's party as singularity event. An eruption. A Big Bang heralding all of existence at once. Everything that had ever been or ever will be was in this glass cube of ravers on the dance floor.

And God was there. And the God of this miniverse was DJ Dairy Queen. His giant soft serve mask glowed white and was the size of a small Christmas tree. The DJ conducted reality in rainbow fractal smears with Girl Talk style pop-hip-hop mash-ups. The Blizzards, his gogo dancers, gyrated behind him, amplifying his prismatic powers.

It was glorious to behold.

Nitin let the radiance flow over him as he beheld the mirrored ceiling and saw himself at the centre of creation. Tears flowed down his face as he rejoiced.

Of course to the onlooker Nitin was just some freshman whose pupils were so dilated and his tongue so far down his chin that he looked like a vampire with a fresh lobotomy. No one paid much attention. A brain fried drooler was among the least interesting things going on. Christophe's Last Ever Party had begun and you didn't need to inject DMT to have your mind blown. Teens bumped and grinded on the dance floor, their spastic bodies rejecting form or function.

Charlezz made a few attempts to break dance into small pockets of dancers, but was only met with turned backs.

Moss operated the BEERlin Wall (as Christophe had christened it). The BEERlin wall was a fifteen foot by fifteen foot wall of kegs. He sprayed the nozzle straight up into the air and the crowd held their mouths up to the sky and drank the yeasty rain.

Autry was in the kitchen washing her hands with scalding water, attempting to wash away her gerbil blood stained hands like Lady MacBeth.

Gigi licked a powered substance off a junior chicks midriff, while debating the merits of transhumanism with Jinny Kim.

Debby Herman had encased herself in a hotboxed inflatable ball and rolled aimlessly through the party, sometimes getting kicked.

Mandy Bellers served slices of her mushroom macro-dosed lemon cake with speedball frosting. It tasted like bugs, dirt, and batteries.

The Kahn triplets were having a very public orgy with the Sommers Twins on the billiards table.

The guy in the panda suit on the segue was getting blown by one of the vestal virgin cheerleaders.

Absolutely no one was pizza wrestling.

So, as far as a Christophe Parties were concerned, it was still early in the night.

*

Outside the mansion the din of the party was muffled in the dark. The Bailey Estate glowed, an aquarium in an abyss. Above the planets were fully aligned. A cosmic arrow pointing straight down.

The syzygy.

In the distance, a dreadnaught of thunderclouds pressed closer, threatening to block out the celestial event.

Soon those thunderheads would burst, unleashing chaos and death.

*

"Who wants to pizza wrestle?" Charlezz had managed to gather a small crowd around the inflatable pool. He had already taken off his shirt, flashing his concave pasty chest, "Come on! Pizza wrestle!"

At some point Reed and Wendy had ditched Charlezz and he found himself alone at the party. He fixed himself another Coke Moshe to shake away the high from the bucket. Eventually he found the pizza pool and that's when he had the idea that would finally let him achieve legendary status.

He shook his cargo pants to the floor, exposing his super blonde furry legs, "Jinny, think you can take me?"

Debate captain Jinny Kim looked like she just smelt a fart, "Ew."

Charlezz stepped out of his pants and made shooter fingers at a senior with big curly red hair, "What about you, Greersy Cakes?"

"Don't call me Greersy Cakes." Greersy Cakes said.

The quest for legendary status was not going well. Once again Charlezz had put himself out there, exactly the way Christophe always did, but instead of universal acclaim he got met with looks off pity and humiliation.

"Pizza Fight! Pizza Fight!..." Charlezz said, tying to start a chant, but failing at even eliciting a woot. It was embarrassing, but at least it was attracting a crowd. Charlezz knew he could use this as an opportunity. If he could just get someone to pizza wrestle him he was positive it would start a 'moment'. A wild memory. People will always recall the time Charlezz started that epic pizza fight. If he was going to have his hero moment he'd have to make a splash. A pizza splash.

"Okay! Okay! Someone film this!"

More than half the crowd obliged Charlezz, pulling out their phones and recording the teen in his undies plead for someone to join him.

"Christophe is going to go nuts when he sees this." Charlezz was obsessed with Christophe, it was true. Charlezz dreamed that tonight he could do something so epic and so hilarious that Christophe would happily hand over his crown, anointing Charlezz the new Prince of Party. Charlezz knew this was unlikely, but he had committed to his gambit anyway. Fortune favours the shameless. Charlezz, in nothing but his boxers, climbed the ladder to the lip of the pool. Cold pizza lay in a bog below him.

"Which one of you bitches are going to take me down?"

No one moved.

"Cringe." Greersy Cakes, Jinny Kim, and at least two others said in unison.

Jinx.

Just as it felt hopeless someone said, "I'll do it."

Charlezz searched the crowd for the owner of the voice. To everyone's surprise, Madison Voight stepped forward. Maddison was an Abercrombie model and star of the volleyball team.

"Yeah, I'll do it. I'll pizza bitch slap yo ass." Madison said, taking off her Chanel jacket.

A lifesaver. A gift from God. Charlezz could finally see the top of the social ladder he had been unsuccessfully climbing his entire life. The crowd perked up and Charlezz let out an aw, hellz yeah! And back flipped, with zero grace, into the tub of pizza. He landed in a bellyflop. He also didn't sink like you might expect, because a pool full of pizza doesn't behave like water. It behaves more like a greasy mattress of pizza.

Covered in congealed sauce and tacky cheese, Charlezz tried to stand, but kept slipping. He finally walrussed himself to the edge of the pool and pulled himself up to face Madison and the public, "Prepare to get owned, Madison!"

"Charles, I was joking," Madison laughed cruelly, putting her Chanel jacket back on, "I'm not actually going to go into a tub of sweaty pizza."

Everyone bust a gut. No one could hold their cameras still they were laughing so hard. Charlezz knew instantly his gambit had backfired. He felt that all too familiar pang in his gut which was the anguish of being a total joke. He knew he couldn't cry. He had to get out of the pool before he did. If he broke down now, it was over. He tried to stifle his tears by laughing along with everyone else.

"I knew that!"

He laughed big belly laughs that teetered on convulsing. In an excruciatingly embarrassing amount of time, he finally got himself out the tub only to find someone had stolen his clothes.

The laughter was deafening. Phone camera lenses surrounded him, mocking him with their unkind cycloptic eyes.

"Who took my clothes?! Seriously" Charlezz screamed, his voice cracking a little. Charlezz was about to set off on his man hunt when he slipped on the tomato sauce film between the marble floor and his foot and landed on his back.

He stared up and saw himself in the ceiling mirror. Laying on his back, covered in gunk, he started to cry, hysterically. His pathetic wails harmonized with the mocking laughter.

And he lay there being filmed, crying his eyes out, for what was certainly an eternity.