Aunt Claudia had rambled on about how all men looked better when they were wearing tuxedos. Or any sort of formal wear, really. Suits, according to her, had the magical power to do that.
Joe could safely say that he did not share that opinion. It certainly didn't make him look magically better. All he knew was that this tuxedo was kind of itchy and the sleeves were just a little bit too short. Stupid rentals, stupid long arms... and riding his bike to prom (how else was he supposed to get there and back?) had felt a little bit silly.
Joe gazed at the little paper lanterns hanging overhead. The decorations were nice. Joe was just relieved they hadn't gone with the 'Pimps & Hoes' theme. That would have been terrifying. He would have stayed home if that was the case. Although he was kind of wishing he'd stayed home, anyway. His social anxiety was playing up, and there wasn't even many people here yet. He was leaning against the wall as if it would help camouflage him.
He probably would have stayed home, except that this was the last time all his friends would be hanging around in the same place, with the exception of the end-of-year trip. He hadn't seen any of them yet, but he knew at least some of them were planning on turning up. He didn't want to miss one of his last chances to hang out with them. Who knew what would happen when high school ended? Friendships tended to dissolve when people changed schools. It was what happened with his middle school friend, Jamie. They'd promised to stay the best of friends and... it just hadn't happened.
He had to grab what chances he had to be with his friends while they were still there. Provided they wanted to hang around him, of course, they might have dates that they'd prefer to be with and he wouldn't want to intrude on that... he knew Travis did. (But Travis was one person Joe was fairly confident he'd manage to stay friends with after high school. They'd managed to stick together since elementary school.)
Joe drummed his fingers to the music that was playing and gazed around the room, at the people that were having a good time. It wasn't so bad just watching from the sides, he supposed. Not as fun as joining in, perhaps, but not as terrifying either. He felt safe near the wall. A little bit lonely, but safe.
Tuxedo Magic
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ViolentMedic
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Marcus suspected that getting dropped off at Prom by his dad was not what would be considered the "typical prom experience". Not that anybody would notice considering how early he was getting dropped off. His dad was probably trying to spare him the embarrassment of getting dropped off after most of the others were already here.
Not that Marcus cared all that much. His parents had already said, in no uncertain terms, that Marcus was not going to be spending his prom night at home watching TV or doing homework. Prom was a night to remembered, they said. Sometimes, Marcus felt like they were just trying to live vicariously through him.
He stretched out his arms to the side, trying to determine the range of motion his suit jacket allowed. He'd grown a little since when he wore it last year at his uncle's wedding. Not that it was too tight to move around comfortable, but there were a few twists that were definitely stretching the seams on the jacket. Marcus supposed the next most embarrassing thing that could happen would be to rip the sleeve off his jacket while trying to dance. Not that Marcus knew much about dancing either.
As he walked into the hall, there were a few things Marcus noted: somebody had either hauled an actual gazebo into the hall or somebody had spent some effort into building one; only a handful of other people had already arrived, which was understandable; the paper lanterns were quite detailed; and the DJ was playing a song that Marcus didn't recognize. Marcus walked around the room, taking his time to admire the work the prom committee had spent in preparing the hall. His wandering eventually led him to the food and drink table, where he helped himself to a small plate of chips and a cup of punch.
Now armed with food and drink, Marcus started another tour of the hall. A few more couples had started to come into the hall, which meant things were probably going to ramp up in about an hour or so. He stopped a couple times to say hi or to nod greetings at his classmates. A few of the girls had some pretty fantastic (and likely expensive) looking dresses. It made Marcus feel a bit conscious about not having a date.
He didn't have long to think about it, since then he spotted a familiar face trying to hide himself in the dim lighting. Not that Marcus could fault him for that. Joe did need to get out more, sometimes. Knowing Joe, yelling or waving or anything to get him to move was probably a losing proposition. Oh well.
Marcus walked over beside his friend and leaned against the wall. He could see why Joe picked the spot: it had a pretty nice view of the hall.
"Didn't think I'd see you here, Joe," Marcus said. "You're looking pretty snazzy. You didn't come alone with a suit like that, did you?"
Not that Marcus cared all that much. His parents had already said, in no uncertain terms, that Marcus was not going to be spending his prom night at home watching TV or doing homework. Prom was a night to remembered, they said. Sometimes, Marcus felt like they were just trying to live vicariously through him.
He stretched out his arms to the side, trying to determine the range of motion his suit jacket allowed. He'd grown a little since when he wore it last year at his uncle's wedding. Not that it was too tight to move around comfortable, but there were a few twists that were definitely stretching the seams on the jacket. Marcus supposed the next most embarrassing thing that could happen would be to rip the sleeve off his jacket while trying to dance. Not that Marcus knew much about dancing either.
As he walked into the hall, there were a few things Marcus noted: somebody had either hauled an actual gazebo into the hall or somebody had spent some effort into building one; only a handful of other people had already arrived, which was understandable; the paper lanterns were quite detailed; and the DJ was playing a song that Marcus didn't recognize. Marcus walked around the room, taking his time to admire the work the prom committee had spent in preparing the hall. His wandering eventually led him to the food and drink table, where he helped himself to a small plate of chips and a cup of punch.
Now armed with food and drink, Marcus started another tour of the hall. A few more couples had started to come into the hall, which meant things were probably going to ramp up in about an hour or so. He stopped a couple times to say hi or to nod greetings at his classmates. A few of the girls had some pretty fantastic (and likely expensive) looking dresses. It made Marcus feel a bit conscious about not having a date.
He didn't have long to think about it, since then he spotted a familiar face trying to hide himself in the dim lighting. Not that Marcus could fault him for that. Joe did need to get out more, sometimes. Knowing Joe, yelling or waving or anything to get him to move was probably a losing proposition. Oh well.
Marcus walked over beside his friend and leaned against the wall. He could see why Joe picked the spot: it had a pretty nice view of the hall.
"Didn't think I'd see you here, Joe," Marcus said. "You're looking pretty snazzy. You didn't come alone with a suit like that, did you?"
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ViolentMedic
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Joe was in the middle of debating whether to leave his safe little place by the wall, where he could at least pretend he was camouflaged by the dim lights and lack of the general sparkliness that covered other areas of the room, in order to go get some punch. He was a little bit thirsty, but... this area felt so comfortable.
At which point Marcus turned up, which meant that his little area wasn't as camouflaged as it felt. But that didn't matter so much right now, because he was nice and ridiculously good at putting up with Joe's stupid babbling. Also, Marcus looked kind of... okay, he looked really good in that suit but that was completely irrelevant.
"Uhm... hi." Joe smiled a little, while he tugged at his tuxedo sleeves in order to try and cover the fact that they were too short. "I figured that... you know... there's only one prom." He gazed at Marcus for a couple of moments before realising what he was doing and looking away, under the pretense of staring at the paper lanterns some more. "You... you, uh... look good. Really, uh... yeah."
Eloquent as always.
Shut up, you.
Still tugging on his sleeves, Joe looked around for the punch bowl. Mouth felt dry. Needed some punch much more than a few minutes ago.
"And, uh... yeah, I'm alone. I mean... I'm not so good at asking people out," Joe mumbled. "What about you?" He kept glancing around, as if expecting Marcus' theoretical girlfriend to jump out from behind one of the tables.
At which point Marcus turned up, which meant that his little area wasn't as camouflaged as it felt. But that didn't matter so much right now, because he was nice and ridiculously good at putting up with Joe's stupid babbling. Also, Marcus looked kind of... okay, he looked really good in that suit but that was completely irrelevant.
"Uhm... hi." Joe smiled a little, while he tugged at his tuxedo sleeves in order to try and cover the fact that they were too short. "I figured that... you know... there's only one prom." He gazed at Marcus for a couple of moments before realising what he was doing and looking away, under the pretense of staring at the paper lanterns some more. "You... you, uh... look good. Really, uh... yeah."
Eloquent as always.
Shut up, you.
Still tugging on his sleeves, Joe looked around for the punch bowl. Mouth felt dry. Needed some punch much more than a few minutes ago.
"And, uh... yeah, I'm alone. I mean... I'm not so good at asking people out," Joe mumbled. "What about you?" He kept glancing around, as if expecting Marcus' theoretical girlfriend to jump out from behind one of the tables.
Well, that wasn't much of a surprise. Marcus would've liked to be pleasantly surprised but that would probably happen later in the night anyway. Still, it was a relief of sorts that Joe had also come alone. It's one thing to know that there are guys coming to prom without dates, and actually knowing somebody that did exactly that.
"Ah, well, I wasn't planning on coming at first," Marcus said with a shrug, "but my parents insisted. They snuck the ticket money into my wallet too." He rolled his eyes at the absurdity of it. Maybe he needed to act more like those teenagers on TV did; it sometimes seemed like that was what his parents thought was "normal". "They even said it like you just did: 'only one prom.'" If Marcus had free hands, he probably would have made air quotes to go with that.
From their vantage point against the wall, he could see more people trickling in in pairs or threes or fours. Not all of them were couples, at least as far as Marcus could tell. Not that he generally kept up with all the gossip around the school, but he was sure he'd have heard if a guy had managed to get two dates for the night.
"They even tried to set me up with a date, but that's too awkward even for me. It's not like I need a date for prom." Marcus looked over at his friend, noting Joe's characteristic nervousness. "Same goes for you, Joe. And it's not about being good at asking people out. It's prom. Girls want to be asked out to prom. Well, at least the juniors in the Chess Club did." Marcus shrugged and laughed. "Whatever, at least you still made it here. We can still enjoy ourselves, even without dates."
Marcus carefully balanced his cup on the little paper plate to free up a hand for a chip. Noticing Joe's lack of food, Marcus automatically held the plate up to Joe. "Chip? I only got the regular ones, but there's more flavors up at the table."
"Ah, well, I wasn't planning on coming at first," Marcus said with a shrug, "but my parents insisted. They snuck the ticket money into my wallet too." He rolled his eyes at the absurdity of it. Maybe he needed to act more like those teenagers on TV did; it sometimes seemed like that was what his parents thought was "normal". "They even said it like you just did: 'only one prom.'" If Marcus had free hands, he probably would have made air quotes to go with that.
From their vantage point against the wall, he could see more people trickling in in pairs or threes or fours. Not all of them were couples, at least as far as Marcus could tell. Not that he generally kept up with all the gossip around the school, but he was sure he'd have heard if a guy had managed to get two dates for the night.
"They even tried to set me up with a date, but that's too awkward even for me. It's not like I need a date for prom." Marcus looked over at his friend, noting Joe's characteristic nervousness. "Same goes for you, Joe. And it's not about being good at asking people out. It's prom. Girls want to be asked out to prom. Well, at least the juniors in the Chess Club did." Marcus shrugged and laughed. "Whatever, at least you still made it here. We can still enjoy ourselves, even without dates."
Marcus carefully balanced his cup on the little paper plate to free up a hand for a chip. Noticing Joe's lack of food, Marcus automatically held the plate up to Joe. "Chip? I only got the regular ones, but there's more flavors up at the table."
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ViolentMedic
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Joe nodded politely, despite the fact that somewhere in the back of his head there was a tiny, gay caveman doing a happy dance at the fact that Marcus hadn't brought anyone to prom. While the rest of him felt really guilty for it.
Dammit, you're not supposed to feel happy about things like that. ...It's not as if it improves your chances, anyway.
Joe tried to bring his attention back to the rest of the conversation, having got momentarily stuck on what was really a very minor detail. Despite what the little, dancing caveman inside him thought. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out the first couple of tries. It felt like he was trying to talk through a mouthful of sand.
"Punch!" he finally choked out, quickly shuffling over to the table where the punch was and grabbing a cup. He chugged the cup of punch within seconds and ended up refilling his cup while he was there before shuffling back.
"Sorry, uhm... just... thirsty. Uh, I don't need any chips, I'm not hungry... but... but thanks, anyway." Given that Joe was experiencing some intense butterflies, he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to digest any food with all the fluttering going on. "And I think... well... even if someone wants to be asked out, the person doing the asking has to be able to... you know... actually be capable of asking in the first place? Not my thing."
Joe decided to leave the part out about how, even if he wanted to ask a girl out (or had the nerve to ask a guy out) that if they showed interest in the idea he'd end up assuming they had brain damage, because... well, who'd want to go out with him? Not the time for that kind of self-pity/self-loathing, though. It was prom, and prom wasn't the place for that kind of moping. Joe had been forced to jump through a lot of hoops just to get permission to go to prom from his father (mostly via extra quizzes made to prove that he'd studied enough to be allowed a night off) and he was going to enjoy it.
"Not upset about it or anything. I mean, I'd rather be with friends, anyway. Less... scary?" Joe shrugged and drained his second cup of punch. "I mean, better than dating someone terrifying and potentially STI-ridden," he mumbled, thinking of Travis' date. "Or, like you said... someone that your parents set you up with. That would be... ehhh. Still, at least you didn't have to convince your parents to let you go?"
Joe fiddled around with the now-empty punch cup while looking around the room at the people who were wandering in. Although he kept glancing back at Marcus, while trying not to stare at him long enough for it to become creepy. It wasn't as if he was the only person in the room who looked good in a suit, it was just that the other guys in the room didn't draw his attention so much.
"Nice decorations, huh?" Joe said, waving the hand that was still clinging to the punch cup at the paper lanterns and the gazebo. "Really, uh... picture-ey. Picturesque. A word like that."
Dammit, you're not supposed to feel happy about things like that. ...It's not as if it improves your chances, anyway.
Joe tried to bring his attention back to the rest of the conversation, having got momentarily stuck on what was really a very minor detail. Despite what the little, dancing caveman inside him thought. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out the first couple of tries. It felt like he was trying to talk through a mouthful of sand.
"Punch!" he finally choked out, quickly shuffling over to the table where the punch was and grabbing a cup. He chugged the cup of punch within seconds and ended up refilling his cup while he was there before shuffling back.
"Sorry, uhm... just... thirsty. Uh, I don't need any chips, I'm not hungry... but... but thanks, anyway." Given that Joe was experiencing some intense butterflies, he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to digest any food with all the fluttering going on. "And I think... well... even if someone wants to be asked out, the person doing the asking has to be able to... you know... actually be capable of asking in the first place? Not my thing."
Joe decided to leave the part out about how, even if he wanted to ask a girl out (or had the nerve to ask a guy out) that if they showed interest in the idea he'd end up assuming they had brain damage, because... well, who'd want to go out with him? Not the time for that kind of self-pity/self-loathing, though. It was prom, and prom wasn't the place for that kind of moping. Joe had been forced to jump through a lot of hoops just to get permission to go to prom from his father (mostly via extra quizzes made to prove that he'd studied enough to be allowed a night off) and he was going to enjoy it.
"Not upset about it or anything. I mean, I'd rather be with friends, anyway. Less... scary?" Joe shrugged and drained his second cup of punch. "I mean, better than dating someone terrifying and potentially STI-ridden," he mumbled, thinking of Travis' date. "Or, like you said... someone that your parents set you up with. That would be... ehhh. Still, at least you didn't have to convince your parents to let you go?"
Joe fiddled around with the now-empty punch cup while looking around the room at the people who were wandering in. Although he kept glancing back at Marcus, while trying not to stare at him long enough for it to become creepy. It wasn't as if he was the only person in the room who looked good in a suit, it was just that the other guys in the room didn't draw his attention so much.
"Nice decorations, huh?" Joe said, waving the hand that was still clinging to the punch cup at the paper lanterns and the gazebo. "Really, uh... picture-ey. Picturesque. A word like that."
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ViolentMedic
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((Breaking order and moving Joe out because he needs to do another thing.))
Picturesque. Picturesque? What on earth did that even mean? Why am I talking about the flipping decorations? Am I that boring when it comes to conversation? I might as well have talked about the weather, what the--
Just like that, whatever little togetherness Joe had shriveled away, leaving him clutching his punch cup tightly. He didn't even hear the answer, if there was any, because all he could focus on was his own internal screaming.
Why was this difficult? It wasn't difficult with Travis or Chuck or Gabby or... okay, with Travis, he was high half of the time, and being high made talking so very easy. But otherwise, still...
Joe crumpled the little paper cup in his hand nervously before blurting out, "I... Ineedtogotothebathroom."
He needed to think. Or hide. Either was good. He made an inelegant run for the men's bathroom.
((Joe Carrasco continued in Mary Jane's Sanctum.))
Picturesque. Picturesque? What on earth did that even mean? Why am I talking about the flipping decorations? Am I that boring when it comes to conversation? I might as well have talked about the weather, what the--
Just like that, whatever little togetherness Joe had shriveled away, leaving him clutching his punch cup tightly. He didn't even hear the answer, if there was any, because all he could focus on was his own internal screaming.
Why was this difficult? It wasn't difficult with Travis or Chuck or Gabby or... okay, with Travis, he was high half of the time, and being high made talking so very easy. But otherwise, still...
Joe crumpled the little paper cup in his hand nervously before blurting out, "I... Ineedtogotothebathroom."
He needed to think. Or hide. Either was good. He made an inelegant run for the men's bathroom.
((Joe Carrasco continued in Mary Jane's Sanctum.))