In The Closets Embrace

:)

Tyler was so totally screwed. He was currently and regrettably standing in the doorway to his living room, watching a crowd of drunken teenagers demolish every surface of his parent's house. He'd moved to San Dimas a week ago, and being the extrovert he was, thought a small get-together with the kids in his grade would be a great way to make friends. But apparently, word got around and well...

Tyler watched in horror as beer he hadn't supplied spilled onto expensive rugs, as ceramic smashed against the tiled floor, and as pool water is splashed anywhere but the pool. He was lucky these business trips his parents loved so much typically lasted weeks, maybe months at a time. Or else he'd be a lot more stressed about cleaning this up later.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, smiling at some people walking past before a boy caught his attention. He looked about as uncomfortable as Tyler felt and was standing awkwardly in the corner of the room. While the people around him wore casual, revealing clothes, he was dressed in a dark brown button-up with a teal sweater vest overtop. If that colour combination alone wasn't chaotic enough, he was also wearing black cat ear headphones. From the look of him, this kid either had an overabundance of confidence or had no idea how strange he looked. He didn't look bad per se. Just... strange.

After scanning the room a few times, he abruptly walked away, eyes trained on the floor while feverishly rubbing his forearms. Weird.

Tyler was snapped back to reality as a drunk girl standing beside him folded in on herself, throwing up on his shoes. She mumbled her apologies, clinging to his arm for a second before stumbling away. Tyler felt nauseous. He tried to take more deep breaths, but it only served to bring the sickening smell up to his nose. The sensation just made him aware of his other senses. Was it always this loud? Were his hands always this clammy? Were the lights always this harsh? Tyler's heart began to pound in his ears and the pressure behind his eyes made his head throb with pain. He... he just needed to sit down. And clean up.

He staggered out of the living room to go to his backyard and take off his shoes where they wouldn't smell as bad. While he couldn't smell his shoes anymore, there was a group smoking by the door and the smell hit him instantly. He turned on his heels and started speedwalking to his bathroom instead. He could just wash them off in the shower. When he opened the door to the same girl hunched over, clutching the toilet bowl, he immediately shut it again. Tyler's breathing picked up speed. His bedroom? He could at least change them. He opened the door. A couple making out. Excellent. This was fine. Everything was fine. He was fine.

A single tear trailed down his face. The moment he registered he was crying, Tyler kicked off his shoes in the hallway, practically sprinting to the closest door he could find and shutting himself inside. People can't see him like that. He just met these people. He'd just gotten away from being judged. This was supposed to be a fresh start. He stumbled into the walk-in closet his parents keep all the random items they don't have room for.

Tyler slid down the wall, hugging his knees close to his chest and breathing rapidly toward the ceiling. He just needed a few minutes alone to calm down and he'll be fine. Then he could go back out and be a good host. To his.. hundreds.. of guests... God, he was screwed. This was fine. It was normal for teen house parties to get out of hand. A voice in the back of his mind unhelpfully reminded him that while that may be true, it certainly wasn't normal to hide and cry in a closet because of it. He needed to hurry up and get his act together before people started to wonder where he went.

His hands left their place scrunched up in the fabric of his hoodie to scramble around in his pockets for his headphones. Maybe blocking out the noise would help. When it turned out they weren't there, he let out a choked sob. This really wasn't his day. He rested his head against his knees, tears beginning to form small puddles on his jeans.