Prom, Huh?

[Slayer†]

(Slight GMing of Amy Bachelor approved)

April

Roldan's Boxing

"Six three two, roll seven!"

Three small explosions, heavy fists striking leather one after the other. A huff of breath, a roll to his shoulders as he weaved under the swipe of a hand before rising fist first to smash the other mitt into the air. Movement, he dragged his feet in a semicircle to follow, dashing in.

"Four five!"

Punishing body blows shot out, sending the leather reeling and pulverising an imaginary ribcage. The figure backpedalled, right windmilling out as he pursued, whipping around after a duck and step to his left to smash a punishing hand into the mitt that was already there waiting at his enemy's liver. A thunderclap sliced through the air and the two men began their dance again, bodies circling and swaying to and fro as fists lashed out and sweat ran down taut flesh in tiny streams. The world bled away until there was just the ring, only the snap and bang and hiss and endless combinations flowing from nerves to muscles to action.

Finally, everything snapped back with the high-pitched whine of the bell. He let himself slump back in a corner, arms resting on the ropes. Breathe in, and out. In, and out. The coach's voice droned on, and it was a second before he tuned in.

"...coming up, isn't it?"

He blinked, looked up. "Huhwha?"

He was greeted with a low, rumbling chuckle. Carlos Roldan was an old heavyweight who'd gone to seed with age, but he'd lost none of the power of days gone by, in his voice or in his fists. "You know, prom; it's okay to have a life outside the gym, you know."

"Right, prom." That was a thing. Honestly, he was surprised it was still a thing, what with... the past few years and all. What with training, football, studying and all that, he couldn't quite say he'd put any thought into it. "What about it?"

Carlos paused with one of the mitts hanging halfway off his hand, looking at Mike like he'd claimed to be an SOTF fan. "I hope you're kidding."

"Um?"

"It's prom, kid." The mitt landed outside the sparring ring and kicked up a cloud of dust from the warehouse floor, their voices echoing along with the creaking of leather and chains and grunts of exertion elsewhere in the gym. Mike was one of Carlos' special prospects, so the veteran liked to keep him late. "You only get one, don't tell me you want to waste it."

Mike was starting to feel the sweat now, the sore muscles, the bruises from the sparring earlier. This was where he belonged, the kind of discipline that had you killing yourself in the gym while everyone else was out having fun was necessary for any half-decent boxer, but missing prom? That was kind of social suicide. Still... "I've got the June 9th fight to worry about, and I watched those vids you sent me. Guy's a monster; can I really afford to miss a day?"

How much was truth and how much was excuse, he wasn't sure, but Knowles... the kid was all over Youtube for a reason; he looked like if Mike took one wrong step, his head would get knocked off. Carlos, though, he didn't look fazed in the slightest as he slipped between the ropes and brought a meaty hand down on the round timer. No more mitt work apparently, from the look he shot Mike's way.

"Mike, look, I've been workin' with you for the past two years now. You eat, sleep, breathe boxing, and I love that. It's made you a killer in that ring. But you have to take some time for yourself, too; you're pushing too hard to be the next Rocky Marciano or something, and if you don't give your body any time to relax it's gonna break down when you need it most. We've got this Knowles guy, but only if you don't let him get in your head; go for your run that Saturday morning, but I better not see you in the gym. Go have fun, I mean it."

---

May 13th

Prom Night

So. Prom. Had it been worth missing a day of training? It was hard not to say the jury was still out on that one. He'd been here a while, now; he and Amy had arrived slightly early, plenty of time to relax and mingle before the show really got started. Then people started trickling in, friendly faces and strangers and enemies he'd pretend to get on with and miss because you just plain don't ruin prom with drama, and soon enough there was a veritable throng in the event centre.

That part had been expected. The part where this had been less like prom, more like something between homecoming and a mosh pit? Not so much. Sure, it was fun, it just... wasn't prom. Wasn't prom supposed to be more romantic, formal? Solemn even, depending on the songs? He'd shown up in a tux, danced under the "stars", held himself ready for what almost sounded like a little glimpse at his father's world with its high society balls and parties - lots of suits and pretty dresses and airy music.

Instead, he'd got heat and passion and bumping and grinding and what was less romance and formality than raw energy. Sure, it was fun, and not like he minded dancing that way with his date, not at all, but it had thrown him for a moment. A few minutes to get into it and the night started bleeding together, the couple slower songs a welcome oasis, and in retrospect he'd probably feel silly for expecting what he'd had, but maybe a part of him had thought prom was supposed to be more special somehow.

There was an inescapable sense that this, so far, had just been any other Aurora dance but dressed up a little. Eventually the building heat and constant drone meant a separation from the horde for a moment. A chance to take in a bit of air... to get a drink.

Funny, all that throwing his body around and rubbing up against people and being in such close physical contact with so many others in clothes he wasn't used to made his throat a little dry. Made him almost want to rip the jacket and dress shirt open so he could really breathe for a minute. That wouldn't be appropriate, though; he was a jock, not a Neanderthal.

That train of thought had led him here, to the punch bowl. Good stuff, actually, cool and refreshing after a night of fun. He took another long, deep sip, pacing to avoid brain freeze as his eyes scanned the crowd for anyone he knew - especially Amy with her green dress. He'd made sure she knew he wasn't just ditching, but what was wrong with keeping an eye on?

[BROseidon†]

Punch, punch, where was the goddamn punch?

Prom was crowded, and Virgil hadn't taken care to get a good lay of the land before setting out to find the punch. He had a rough idea of where it was, but didn't quite know exactly where to go. Virgil then realized that he'd lost track of where Cammy was, and he hoped that Cammy didn't mind a sluggish return.

It wasn't too long before Virgil had found the punch, and Michael Eastmund with it. It was good to see a friendly face a prom, more so because Virgil had been surprised when he'd first heard that Mike was even coming to prom. Mike seemed to spend his life outside of school in the gym training, and he wasn't exactly the most extroverted person. It was stranger still to see the guy dressed up in a tux, but Virgil knew the same could be said for him. No point dwelling on that, even if Mike actually looked pretty sweet in the tux. Nevertheless, Virgil wasn't one to complain, especially about anything that Mike had done over the course of high school. Mike's ventures into boxing and football had given him enough common ground with Virgil that they could maintain a working friendship, even if it wasn't particularly close.

Virgil finally found himself at the bowl, and, as he grabbed a cup and began pouring, he turned to Mike.

"Hey Mike, how's prom been treatin' ya?" Virgil realized that Mike seemed to be alone, but Virgil could have sworn that Mike had said he had a date. "Where's the lucky lady?"

[MK Kilmarnock]

Cody felt on top of the world, however small that was at the moment. Prom was the pinnacle of a high-school year, the icing on a four-year long cake. He went to prom last year as an invited junior courtesy of the former captain of the football team, but that was nothing compared to being here now, as a senior, having accomplished everything he wanted to in life thus far. Well, okay, that was being a little too dramatic. At the end of the night, it was just a fucking dance, plain and simple.

Wasn't stopping him from having the time of his life thus far.

Earlier in the night, Cody had been lounging from table to table, making sure to socialize with anybody and everybody... even those that he normally wouldn't have considered worth his time. Shit, he even hit a few geeky tables full of those 'awkward, loner types' this school seemed to adore taking in. Weren't bad kids for the most part, just a little annoying from a day-to-day basis. He smiled at them the same way, gave them a rib or two, standard lines of courtesy, moved on.

He and his date had been spending only cursory time together up to this point, but there'd be more time for that later. Experience told him these things tended to settle down to a bunch of slow dancing, and there was still dinner where he HAD to sit in one place. Hell, all of his socializing up until now was largely because he wouldn't get a chance to do it once he was chained down in once place. Not that Kat was a bad date; shit, Cody considered himself awfully lucky that she had agreed to go with him, not that he was willing to say that out loud. The 'star quarterback of Aurora' should be able to get any damn girl he pleased, right?

It was around the last few tables that Cody realized he was getting fairly parched. Since he really wanted to hit the dance floor and start messing around with the other guys on the team, he figured it was high time to hit the punch bowl.

As he neared his destination, Cody caught sight of Mike and Virgil standing pretty close to each other. Prime for a good ol' rambunctious party boy greeting. Fuckin' perfect, really.

"Fellaaaaaaas," Cody crooned as he approached the two from behind, putting an arm around each of their shoulders. "Mind the punch... don't want to get it on the tux, 'specially if you rented them. What're we doing over here, huh? Mike, glad you could make it!"

[Pippi]

Somehow, even with her mother's insistence on taking photos and a horrible nagging feeling that they were going to be the last ones there, they had actually arrived slightly earlier than the rest of the pack. Whilst Amy hadn't wanted to arrive at either extremity, she supposed turning up early was better than turning up late in front of the whole school. And besides, it wasn't like they were super early anyway; there had been a decent amount of people who'd arrived before them, who they'd been able to talk with a little, before the floodgates had opened and more and more people had filled the hall.

Amy had worried for a bit that prom was going to be a super, super formal event, with classy dancing and music and all that dull stuff. She wasn't a fan of formal events; she'd faked illness one time to get out of going to a family friend's wedding. In reality, it had turned out to be a lot more normal, and a lot more fun. Sure, it wasn't vastly different to any dance Amy had seen or experienced before, but what the hell, it was fun, dancing with Mike that way, and that was the most important thing. He'd seemed a little... out of it at first, but after a song or two, he'd gotten into the dancing as much as Amy.

Really, that was one of the best things about prom. Nobody cared how shitty your dancing was, because everyone else was just as bad. The whole thing was a maelstrom of shitty dancing energy, and Amy was enjoying it even more than she thought she would.

Eventually Mike had needed to go and get something to drink, and he'd disappeared into the crowd in the vague direction of the punch bowl. Amy had danced a little more, before wandering to the outskirts, talking a little with people she recognised (Whilst keeping a careful eye out for people like Nina, or worse, Max. Drama was the last thing she wanted right now). After a short while, she'd realised that she was pretty hot and thirsty as well, and so, pushing through the crowd, she had made her way to the punch bowl as well.

Mike wasn't alone at the punch bowl. Amy recognised the tall, brown haired boy talking to him as Virgil something-or-other, although this was only really through Mike. Still, he seemed like a pretty nice guy. The guy who walked up to them both Amy also recognised as Cody Patton, another person she only really knew through Mike. She had heard a couple of rumours about him, though. Then again, rumours often had a habit of being based on jealousy, or being complete bullshit, something she knew from personal experience. Amy walked up to the group, smiling at all three of them. She'd caught the last part of Virgil's question, and her voice took on a mock-serious tone as she spoke.

"Heyyy guys! But hey, Virgil, I've got no idea who 'the lucky lady is'! I mean, who in their right mind would want to go to prom with Mike, eh? Nope, haven't got a clue."

[Slayer†]

Dogpile around the punch bowl! He'd greeted Virgil with a quick "'sup, not bad" before Cody swooped down out of nowhere. Someone was definitely feeling boisterous, but then, it was Cody Patton, and this was prom, so was it really a surprise? The punch jarred a little as Cody's arm suddenly went around him, but nothing spilled, as Mike carefully kept his arm where Cody couldn't knock it aside.

"Yeah, my dad might have something to say if you ruined the tux," he shot back, an easy grin touching his cheeks. The quarterback used to be someone he really disliked, and the way people talked about him made him sound like Attila the Hun, but he was good people if one bothered to get to know him. Besides, they'd been through a lot together, on and off the field; years of slogging your guts out next to someone had a way of forming a bond.

Mike would never see most of these people again after another month or two. He never would've thought he'd say it before football, but Cody was one of the ones he hoped would stay in touch. He moved out of the way so Cody and Virgil could get to the punch, then another voice chimed in and he found his eyes rolling just a little.

Typical Amy. He turned and raised his cup to her, part playing around and part disguising the quick downward motion his eyes took.

"Hey, why not just bring the whole school over here. Didn't miss me too badly, did you?" Because he could do fake-serious too.

[BROseidon†]

Just as Mike could respond to Virgil's greeting, Cody had arrived with his typical rambunctious demeanor. Cody was always fun, and prom was probably hyping up his mood. Prom was hyping up everyone, after all. Virgil stood his ground fine as Cody wrapped his arm around him. Even though Cody was the same height as Virgil, Virgil was a bit bulkier than Cody.

"Yeah Cody, you should watch it. Wouldn't want Mike's dad going after you, after all." Cody and Mike were closer to each other than they were to him, given that they were team mates. The camaraderie that built between team mates over the years was something that couldn't be matched. Years of training together, overcoming the same challenges, suffering the same defeats built strong bonds; it was why Virgil hadn't formed the same level of friendships at Aurora as everyone else; he spent his hours after school training with an entirely different group, and many of the parties he attended were at the houses of his team mates who weren't Aurora students. Virgil couldn't help but feel a bit like the third wheel.

Then Amy came over. Of course she was the lucky girl. She and Mike had always been close; Virgil had first met Amy through Mike. Virgil saw Mike walk over to Amy and... he seemed happy to see her. Typical, he's probably checking her out.

"Hey Amy, nice to see you." Virgil caught sight of the earrings, a pair of silver leafs. "Those earrings look stunning. I guess I should be calling Mike the lucky guy."

Somehow, during all of this, a glass of punch had ended up in Virgil's hand. Now he just needed to get a second cup for Cammy...

[MK Kilmarnock]

"Yeah, yeah," Cody said dismissively as he unwrapped his arms and started to get some punch for himself. Was it wrong of him for half-hoping somebody spiked the hell out of this shit? Not that anybody really could have had the opportunity anyway. Teachers watch this damn thing like a hawk. Spiking the punch bowl is something that only happens in movies and teen sitcoms, these days.

"I'll just have to outrun the guy. Fuck knows I'm capable of running the ball down the field when the other team's too stupid to have a decent defensive line." He shot a grin Mike's way, but the guy seemed busy with...

Oh, hey. Amy. Cody thought he heard somebody.

He finished doling out some punch for himself before turning around to square-shoulder with the other two guys, tipping his glass as greeting. His free hand found his pocket, and there he stood, listening rather than talking for a change.

... Man, tuxedos have a way of making you feel like a badass.

[Pippi]

It was a little surreal, really, seeing these three football players all dressed up neat and tidy like this, especially with them shoulder to shoulder like they were on the pitch or something. Well, Virgil played rugby, but that was basically the same thing. Amy had little interest in sport of any kind, although Mike had tried to convince her to watch a match, or one of his boxing matches. The suit was definitely a good look for him. A seal of approval from her for sure.

"Pfft, naaah." Amy said, grinning and getting a glass of punch for herself as well. So long as Mike had picked up on it, she didn't see a reason to stop this teasing/mock-seriousness any time soon. "I just needed a drink, and you and the punch happened to be in the same place, so it's win-win, I guess!"

Virgil then complemented her earrings, and Amy smiled graciously at him, slightly adjusting the hair around said earrings.

"Hey, thanks! They were such a good find, weren't they? Almost lost them in the warzone known as my room before coming here, but all's well that ends well, right? And hey, how 'bout we just say we're both lucky, eh?"

Amy took a sip of the punch. The taste was meh, but it quenched her thirst, and that was the most important thing.

"So, how's prom been treating you? You two both have dates, right?" Amy looked from Cody to Virgil as she said this.

[Slayer†]

(I'm tired and have NO idea what to say here, so here's something just to push the thread along!)

"Actually, yeah, where's Kat gone to?"

It would've been hard to forget Cody's date. Kat wasn't bad-looking, definitely someone he'd take a second look at, and while Cody hadn't quite been outright bragging, he also hadn't been shy about making sure Mike knew exactly who was going to be on the quarterback's arm tonight. Mike hadn't quite been punched in the head enough times for it to slip his mind, so it was a bit of a surprise not to see her in tow. She was probably lost in the crowd somewhere.

Oh well, not like anything could have happened. His quick scan of the mob didn't register anything out of the ordinary, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted one of the teachers - that one law professor who was built like a UFC fighter, Mike couldn't remember his name - set up in some isolated part of the dance hall where he could watch everything. There were a few teachers milling around, watching everyone like this was less school dance and more prison yard, but that one seemed like he hadn't moved an inch all night.

Weird, but not his problem he supposed. Really, security could've been a lot worse from some of the horror stories he'd heard. He hadn't had to walk through a metal detector on the way in or anything, after all. He kept drinking his punch for now, and shifted a little closer to Amy part because he could, part to break the little defensive line the three athletes had going, letting the latest kinda-fun-but-shitty song wash over his ears.

Why Amy liked some of this stuff but couldn't appreciate a good sonata he wasn't sure, but hey. Prom.

[BROseidon†]

"Fine, fine," Virgil said with a light chuckle. "You're lucky, Mike's lucky. Everybody's lucky. Everybody wins tonight."

Everybody wins. Virgil had said it without really thinking, but he realized that it was sort of a funny thing to say. Everyone looked great tonight. Not just the people like Mike and Cody and Cammy and Kat, who looked good on a daily basis, but even people who normally weren't particularly attractive looked good. The tuxedos and dresses seemed to make everyone look more confident, more composed. Everyone seemed pretty happy. Still, framing it as "winning" was a little odd.

And Virgil knew that what he'd said was only partially true. There would be people staying at home, those who didn't want to go to prom for whatever reason. Why would anyone stay home, anyways? While Virgil wasn't exactly the most spectacular at math, he could tell that the room was not packed enough for everyone to be there. Those people were probably having boring, regular nights, instead of seizing the one last hurrah that they got as a class before they all went their separate ways. Even if Virgil's closest friends were his rugby friends, he was sufficiently close with enough of the people here to want to want to celebrate four successful years with them. People like Mike, Cody, and Amy, who made good company, even if he didn't even know where they lived.

"Well, everyone here, at least. Would hate to be one of those people who decided that home was the better option tonight."

Then Amy asked about their dates, and Mike was quick to point out that Kat wasn't with them. Neither was Cammy, but Mike probably didn't even know that Virgil had asked Cammy to prom. Oh shit. Cammy.

Virgil was supposed to deliver punch to her, and he'd gotten a bit caught up catching up with people. It probably wasn't a huge deal, but it would be sort of rude to leave her waiting. Virgil glanced around the dance floor. Where had he and Cammy been dancing? He couldn't remember.

"Yeah, I have a date. Cammy Davidson. I came over hear to get both of us some punch, and, well, I seem to have lost track of where we were."

Maybe she'd find him. No harm in spending a few minutes catching up. If she didn't make her way over by then, Virgil could probably find her quickly enough. It wasn't like the venue was that large...

Virgil now had a second cup of punch in his possession. He wasn't really sure how they were getting there.

[MK Kilmarnock]

"Kat should be over at the table next to ours. Hanging with some friends. We won't get crazy attached at the hip until the dancing kicks in." Cody completed thoughts between sips of punch.

"Not really sure where we're goin' tonight. Maybe to her place, definitely not to mine, maybe we'll each just go home. Hard to say. Don't wanna be that guy." That line, he wondered why he was even talking about any of that shit.

"I don't know who would honestly stay home. Well, yeah, I do, but I'm trying to lay off of that sort of crowd. Just for tonight." Cody shot a grin. "Way I figure, anybody who decided to unglue themselves from the tv or computer or whatever to come here is alright in my book just this once. Nobody wants to start shit on prom, right?"

He looked around to the whole group. Everything felt right, in place. The hope that it would never end was a stupid one, an unrealistic one. He still hoped it.

[Pippi]

Amy continued to sip her punch as she listened to Cody and Virgil speak. Now that she was feeling slightly less parched, the very meh taste was even more apparent, verging on the border of being shit. She carried on drinking anyway; she was at prom, and it just felt like a prom-y type thing to do. Or something. Maybe it was one of those things she'd eventually grow to like, like tiramisu.

Turned out that Virgil was here with Cammy, and Cody was with Kat. Amy wasn't super close with either of them, but from what she knew, Cammy was generally nice and friendly all around, whilst Kat was... less so. Amy wasn't about to start shit here, though, not that she would have anyway. Not tonight, not at prom.

Amy looked out over the crowd of people, as everyone else in the group seemed to be doing the same. There were a lot of people, and Amy hadn't known in the slightest how many were likely to turn up, but there did seem as if there were people missing. She'd only had a cursory glance around, really, but there had been certain faces she'd been sure would be in the crowd that were missing. Were they really all just staying at home, being boring little shits?

Actually, Amy hadn't seen Owen yet, either. She'd assumed he'd be coming; he had said he would no matter what, after all. He had been kinda... out of it recently, a little terser than normal, and it was kinda obvious why. But if he was gonna stay home just because of that, well, it was his loss and his loss only.

"I'll be honest," Amy said, turning back to the group. "For a while, I was pretty dead set on staying at home, glued to my laptop and all that good stuff. I was kinda nervous, I guess, dunno why. But then, y'know-" Amy smiled at Mike, who'd moved slightly closer towards her whilst she had been looking at the crowd. "Stuff happened, and here I am, and it's been fucking brilliant so far!"

[Slayer†]

(Getting Mike out of here.)

"Yeah, it really is."

Then a song came on and Mike went back onto the dance floor, because fuck this goddamn thread.

(Continued elsewhere)