Night Vale ▷ Steve Harrington

xvi. the mistake

THERE WAS A REASON WHY SCOUT DIDN'T ATTEND VERY MANY PARTIES. Parties like this one, they had an uncanny ability of making him feel as though his skin were crawling, insects creeping up and down his arms as the sweat began to bead on his forehead until his breath quickened and it was all he could do to maintain his outward appearance of being calm.

Not that it seemed very many people cared, though. Parties like this one were jam-packed, pulsating with hormonal teenage bodies wherever the space permitted. There's hardly enough room to dance, much less move around, not that the kids seem to notice, or care, for that matter. As long as there's drinks placed out on every flat surface, they have all they need, rocking out to whatever heavy metal tunes they can bear to listen to without bursting their eardrums right out.

Steve Harrington's parties were always something like this. He was infamous for them, really; the absentee parents -- wherever the hell they were off all the time -- the enormous amount of alcohol he somehow obtained each time, the imminent cases of mono that never failed to spread like wildfire before the end of the week. You could say it was a staple, but then again, Scout has never been to enough of them to say so. The one was enough.

And yet, here he was.

Scout squeezed through the sweaty bodies until he spotted a relatively empty corner in the living room, almost big enough for three or four people to stand without feeling too bunched up together next to the fireplace, which, thankfully, was not on. He hated to think of the consequences of a lit fire in such a crowded home -- not to mention all the alcohol that could very easily "accidentally" make its way into the hearth. He hoped the Harringtons kept a matchbox hidden away someplace.

A sea of reindeer headbands and Santa hats crowd the first floor of this big house, like every single person at the party had raided the drug store before coming to grab their own pair of discount Christmas accessories, cheering through the remains of twilight. Among the vast expanse of bodies, teenagers along the living room, dining room, and everywhere in between were having the time of their lives. Holiday music blared from speakers he couldn't quite locate -- his ears were telling him that they were coming from everywhere around him, which didn't seem right; probably something akin to one attempting to reach the end of a rainbow but never getting close enough, no matter how far you travel. People stood tall and grew by the minute like rush hour, except with none of the rush and all of the traffic.

Tonight, the teenagers of Hawkins were once again awake.

To his surprise, a haze lingered over the room, and he didn't have enough experience with drugs to identify what it was, only enough to recognize that it was drugs. He reminded himself to stay away from anything served, be it drinks or food or anything in between. The last thing he wanted was to come home smelling like some of the kids did right now -- his father had raised an eyebrow at Scout wanting to come to a party in the first place, much less one hosted by Steve Harrington. But one more eyebrow raise and a handful of instructions that boiled down to being home by curfew later, the blond was finally able to escape.

Finally secluded in his little corner of peace -- if peace meant still getting a headache from the loud music -- Scout slipped his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt, fidgeting with some leftover piece of string inside -- Champion, like always. It was the most comfortable, which was more than some people could say, and while the pink may have earned him taunts at school, the only thing that might resemble bullying now were the side-looks and snide remarks he was earning from some of the more sober party members. The hoodie, way too big for his frame from countless laundry cycles, provided a slim shield of protection from what he chose to subject himself to tonight.

Plus, if he pulled it over his nose, he couldn't smell the stink. It may have been a Christmas party, but there were still teenagers with alcohol and who knew what else.