There's the Rub

[Brackie]

There were four things absolutely certain in Jasper Rourke's world: life, death, taxes, and the fact that he absolutely hated prom night.

It wasn't that he hated the idea of prom night, it was just the build-up to it had turned him off from it completely. Everyone turned into lobotomised idiots whenever the idea of dates and limousines and decorating the gym and all that other crap came up, and now basically the entire football team were paired up with him the odd one out. There was the possibility of just going with a beard, some girl who felt like being a gay guy's date for the evening (although everyone already knew he was gay - would she be a moustache or a goatee then instead of a beard?), but all in all he really didn't feel like getting a date. He could have just reinstalled Grindr and picked up a guy, he didn't have any trouble the first time he tried anyway, but again, he lacked the drive to do anything.

The original plan was to go alone, meet up with his football buddies or wrestling buddies and get wasted before showing up, probably get thrown out first. The former part he at least told his parents. He'd even rented a cheap tux and flimsy bow-tie and taken the obligatory pre-prom photos for his parents photo album. They were going out to meet some friends, some old retired army friends of mom's were in town and they were going to paint the town some shade of red, so they didn't linger too long.

"We'll be on the phone if you need us."

"Kay."

"Remember, anything, you just call."

"...kay"

And then they were out the door, leaving Jasper alone in the living room. Prom didn't start for another half-hour, and it was fashionable to show up late, right?

He took the time to wander up to his room and check his computer. Just a quick stroll on Facebook to see if anyone was on. Most of his class had already started uploading prom photos. There were plenty to scroll through, plenty of happy faces in expensive suits and dresses smiling in living rooms and in front of limousines and each either with dates or friends. Most of them were just tagged from their parents albums, others were clearly D.I.Y. jobs, with people clearly holding the camera in front of them, as though the fact they didn't have anyone to take it and had to take it themselves somehow made the photos unique.

Jasper did a quick refresh before logging off and heading back downstairs. He grabbed a large thin bottle of Joss from the fridge before finally heading to the car.

Everything was set, he was only a hair's breadth away from starting his car before coming to the honest conclusion that prom was really, really not a place he wanted to be tonight.

It wasn't exactly a place he felt he could enjoy himself without getting pissed enough to not recognise or remember anyone. Everyone was there to have a good time, dance, drink, eat, et cetera et cetera et cetera...and despite the fact that that was a summation of 90% of every party he ever went to, Jasper Rourke had enough common sense to know that he was never going to have a good time there, especially with most of his classmates whom he hated anyway. Some dickwad he stole money from was probably going to come up and try and talk friendly with him. As though prom was everyone's last big hurrah and they could all have a good time and mend bridges. Uh, no. Jasper hated people like that, and he always would, so being trapped in a hall simultaneously with all of them and nobody by his side, instead all concerned with the cheerleaders they were trying to bang, it honestly felt like the very definition of torture.

So no. He wasn't going.

--

"Dick, I have to go home."

Another shot of Joss was haphazardly poured on the arm of the chair, banged against the small wooden table and downed faster than anyone could blink. Jasper shook his head to clear the lingering aftertaste and slammed the glass back down.

This was a better night. His tie was loosened to a less choking state, his shoes were thrown against the wall, and he was in his father's arm chair watching an old movie on TV.

"We hope you all enjoyed yourselves, and we'll see you all again in 1974. Good evening!"

Yeah, fuck prom.

"Fuck prom."

He downed one more shot of Joss before settling in for the night.