"What are we?"

In red.

Vincent tapped his fingers on his steering wheel rhythmically, groaning to himself. He hated parties. No- correction. He didn't hate parties. He loathed them. Everything about them made his anxiety shoot through the roof. The loud music, the cheap food, the alcohol, the pot, the people. The PEOPLE. If he had to bear through any small talk, he'd explode. Work was bad enough, but at least at work he could pawn customers off on some other poor employee. Here- here was where he would crumble. Vin looked up at his mirror, adjusting it to see behind him. Not that there would be anything there to look at... considering he was parked in front of Henry's house.

The string lights on the porch twined along his railing, and the back gate was open leading to the backyard, inviting invitees to let themselves in. The music was loud. Normally, Vincent liked music. But when he could hear it from his car out front? Too loud.

He was already a half hour late. Vin sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against his car seat. If he could just get through an hour he'd make some excuse to leave; some friends needed him, or some family problem came up. Henry would know it was bullshit, but Vincent didn't really care. It was Henry's fault he was here in the first place. Just go in, chat for an hour, and-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
"Hey, Vince, I-"

Vincent shot up in his seat, letting out a scream that could definitely be heard through his window. Henry leaned back from the car, giving him a confused expression, then did a hand crank motion, gesturing for him to roll down the window. Vincent caught his breath and pushed some loose strands of hair behind his ear, leaning to crank the window down.

"What was that?" Henry mused, a small smile forming on his face.

"Where did-... I- Henry. Please do not bang on my window."

"Awe, come on, you were just sitting in here alone looking all depressed..." Henry mumbled, but his eyes weren't on Vincent. He glanced over at the passenger seat, and huffed softly to himself. "Not a plus one?"

"Does it look like I have a plus one?" Vincent seethed, slumping back against his seat. Henry reminded him so much of his mother when he got like this.

"No need to get defensive, man. Just- maybe tonight will be good for you? You don't leave the house much, you don't really have friends, everyone thinks you're kind of a weirdo, y-..." Henry paused, noticing Vincent's unamused expression. "Sorry. But you get my point, right? I know the real William Vincent Afton," He said in a wistful tone, waving his hands around slightly. "And I like you just fine. Loosen up. Show them that guy I met in college. The one who pierced his own ears in my bathroom while he was drunk."

"Henry. I'm-..." He sighed. "I'm not 20 anymore, Henry. I'm gonna be 40 soon."

"Not 40 yet."

Vincent looked down at the steering wheel, letting out a breath through his nose. Henry studied him for a second, then pulled open the driver side door. "Let's go."

Vincent looked up at him, then rolled his eyes. Arguing with Henry was useless. A guy as social as he was would always be able to one up him. So, reluctantly, Vincent unbuckled and got out of the car, brushing himself off.
He had bought new clothes for the occasion. Well, a new shirt, anyway. A red button up that he rolled up the sleeves to, tucked into black slacks. Henry had a similar outfit on, instead with a white shirt. It was nice to know that he didn't over-dress. He-... had something of a reputation for that.

"Come on, loosen up," Henry leaned over, undoing the top two buttons of Vincent's shirt. Vin shook his head, but let it happen. He knew fighting it right now would probably lead to more trouble than it's worth. After he decided he was satisfied with fixing Vincent's outfit, Henry was quick to grab him by the wrist, leading him to the back yard.