just something short bc i felt like writing smt for them real quick
i havent been writing a lot, and u can tell i got lazy at the end lol
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Dante isn't.. good with parties. Maybe, like, five or seven minutes ago it was okay. Maybe. It was still too loud, and too bright, and too.. gross, but it was tolerable.
Some girl twice his height shoulder checks him, and it hurts bad. A lot more than he wants to admit- but it also makes his stomach go through something even worse than the flipping and general shitfest it's been throwing for a while.
Sure, he could've just not come to this dumb party, because this always happens, but.. it takes experience to get used to things, right?
..Which applies to almost anything except this, since every time he agrees to go to one of these things, he finds he can't breathe all that great within an hour or two.
The front door seems good- it's dark, it's cold out. Every step he takes closer, though, he can hear commotion from outside getting louder. He barely even sees the door, and already knows there's a group of people yelling outside for some reason.
God damn it.
He's weak in the knees, but tries to escape into the bathroom instead. Somewhere private that he can finally just.. you know, fall apart. Not the main one- there's bound to be someone passed out in there already,- but the the master bathroom.
He prays to every god imaginable that no one's, uh.. using the bedroom on his way through, and he swears he's blessed when he finds it empty. Shit's toppled over, sure, but it's fine. It's fine.
No one's in the bathroom, either.
Is it clean? Probably not. Is it his now, for however long he wants to mope and whine? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Sinking to the cold tile, he lets some of the tension run from his shoulders. It's uncomfortable as hell to lean against the cabinet, but he sort of forgets about it as tears sting his eyes.
It's pathetic, really. The second that the music isn't absolutely deafening, drowned out by the bathroom fan and his muffled whines, he just.. cries like a child. And he hates it more than anything.
There's no clock in here, no way for him to tell how long he sits there sobbing his heart out at himself. The sick feeling in his stomach won't fade, even though it's gotten easier for him to breathe (besides his now stuffed nose), and just a little bit easier to think straight.
He stretches his legs, takes deep breaths, and then.. he's lost. Fuck, like-.. what is he supposed to even do now? Go back out? Yeah right. No one he actually knows has probably even noticed he's gone.
Laurance and Garroth are probably fucking in a closet somewhere, Travis is undoubtedly mixed in with a group of people he doesn't know as if he's their best friend of ten years..
Aph, all the girls he caught glimpses of.. just passed out or on their way. Who knows? Maybe they're the loud ass group of people outside. One of 'em did sound like Katelyn.
..To be fair, Ivan might have noticed he kinda vanished. It's hard to not notice your boyfriend's gone. ..But he probably only noticed because he'd been clingy the rest of the night, and.. Dante doesn't really want to interrupt his good time anyway.
So he gives up on anything outside his little bubble, and decides instead to try to cheer himself up in any way possible. Of course, the only real way of doing that in the empty, clock-less bathroom is his phone.
Oh, fantastic. It's way past midnight, meaning he's been here.. one: way longer than he thought, and two: way longer than he wanted to be here.
It doesn't really matter now, though.
He can hardly even remember what he looks through- it's all the same, meaningless garbage as it always is. There's some cute animals and stuff, which are important, but.. nothing else that sticks in his mind.
Just dumb shit in an attempt to force himself to stop being a coward.
