((Joe Carrasco continued from Coming Down.))
Final tally of the night:
- Screwed up talking to friend/crush and consequently fled.
- Spent most of night in bathroom with a random stranger who his best friend drugged without consent.
- Ended the night cleaning vomit off a car and talking to someone's shoes.
Lovely.
Was that a typical prom? If it was, movies had a lot for answer for. His expectations had been... well, not great, but... cautiously optimistic? Sort of? Okay, he hadn't been totally pessimistic... that was almost optimism.
To top it all off? Joe was pretty sure he was lost. He pedalled through an unfamiliar street, feeling very self-conscious of the fact that he was riding a bicycle in a tuxedo and that he still smelt a little like vomit. To make matters worse, it was kind of dark and Joe's capability for asking directions from strangers was shaky at best.
Joe sighed and skidded to a halt, clambering off the bike. He looked around at the street he was on. If he just found a street sign he could probably figure out where he was. Worst comes to worst, he could call his father and ask for a lift, or at least directions, but... that was a last resort. A scary last resort.
Joe started trotting back to the nearest street corner. He'd figure it out, he couldn't be that far away from prom, it'd only been a few minutes since leaving. His sense of direction wasn't even that bad, this was just unfamiliar territory, that's all.
The Friendliest Kidnapping Ever
I think this one's private.
-
ViolentMedic
- Posts: 813
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
-
General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
((Enter Chuck Soileau))
What was unfamiliar territory for Joe was just the daily commute to school for Chuck.
He'd had a good night. Messing around, talking about his model girlfriend (who was totally legit and who he frequently had mutual satisfying sexual romps with every other hour), joking and chatting with his friends. Really, it was an excellent night. Hell, he couldn't even complain about the music; yes, he wouldn't listen to half the popular garbage his peers selected in his own time, but those songs WERE fun to dance to. Only drawback of the night was that he wasn't drunk yet. He was completely sober, as a matter of fact. And while this meant he'd be able to add some sober control to his madness and remember all the stupid drink-induced things his friends did without fail, he still intended to rectify this state of affairs.
Which was why he was going to an after-prom party. Continue talking to his friends, continue having a good time, not having to worry about the watchful eye and limiting constraints of the school authorities, and get completely pissed in a responsible yet gratifying way.
So that was why he was driving along, heading in the party's general direction. It was going to be one of those big house parties, where Chuck would spend time making a fool of himself, performing embarrassing dance moves and engaging in intoxicated yet oddly intelligent conversations about philosophy and geopolitics.
Suddenly, emerging from the darkness, he noticed a guy in a dishevelled, rather dirty formalwear, loitering helplessly on a street corner. As he got closer and the guy's features became more identifiable, he decided to pull to a halt right next to him.
"Joe! I'm going to a party, you're coming with me!"
What was unfamiliar territory for Joe was just the daily commute to school for Chuck.
He'd had a good night. Messing around, talking about his model girlfriend (who was totally legit and who he frequently had mutual satisfying sexual romps with every other hour), joking and chatting with his friends. Really, it was an excellent night. Hell, he couldn't even complain about the music; yes, he wouldn't listen to half the popular garbage his peers selected in his own time, but those songs WERE fun to dance to. Only drawback of the night was that he wasn't drunk yet. He was completely sober, as a matter of fact. And while this meant he'd be able to add some sober control to his madness and remember all the stupid drink-induced things his friends did without fail, he still intended to rectify this state of affairs.
Which was why he was going to an after-prom party. Continue talking to his friends, continue having a good time, not having to worry about the watchful eye and limiting constraints of the school authorities, and get completely pissed in a responsible yet gratifying way.
So that was why he was driving along, heading in the party's general direction. It was going to be one of those big house parties, where Chuck would spend time making a fool of himself, performing embarrassing dance moves and engaging in intoxicated yet oddly intelligent conversations about philosophy and geopolitics.
Suddenly, emerging from the darkness, he noticed a guy in a dishevelled, rather dirty formalwear, loitering helplessly on a street corner. As he got closer and the guy's features became more identifiable, he decided to pull to a halt right next to him.
"Joe! I'm going to a party, you're coming with me!"
-
ViolentMedic
- Posts: 813
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
Chuck turning up was certainly a lot more welcome than Joe having to call his father for a lift. But the part about going to a party...
Joe really didn't like parties. He'd been dragged to one by Travis once, and had spent the entire time hiding in the darkest corner he could find. And given that it was the sort of party Travis had liked, there was a lot of booze, drugs and loud people. He'd snuck out as early as he could without being rude that time. Bottom line was that this just wasn't Joe's sort of thing. Even with his recent thing of 'expose himself to whatever is scaring the shit out of him,' this was too much too soon.
"I don't like parties. You know that," Joe called back, pushing his bike closer to the car. "They're at about the same level as being electrocuted. Repeatedly. You done with prom, then?"
He fiddled with the sleeve of his tuxedo, still wrinkling his nose at the mild vomitesque smell, before mumbling, "Uh, by the way... I'm kinda lost. Where are we?"
Joe really didn't like parties. He'd been dragged to one by Travis once, and had spent the entire time hiding in the darkest corner he could find. And given that it was the sort of party Travis had liked, there was a lot of booze, drugs and loud people. He'd snuck out as early as he could without being rude that time. Bottom line was that this just wasn't Joe's sort of thing. Even with his recent thing of 'expose himself to whatever is scaring the shit out of him,' this was too much too soon.
"I don't like parties. You know that," Joe called back, pushing his bike closer to the car. "They're at about the same level as being electrocuted. Repeatedly. You done with prom, then?"
He fiddled with the sleeve of his tuxedo, still wrinkling his nose at the mild vomitesque smell, before mumbling, "Uh, by the way... I'm kinda lost. Where are we?"
-
General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
"We're on the way to a party, my friend!"
Being friends with Chuck carried considerable risks. Chief amongst them was the very real possibility of being dragged to a party against your will, complete with the drinking and the dancing and committing the stupid things that end up on Facebook and cause you to have a new nickname. Yes, unlike Joe, Chuck had prepared for this party. He had acquired a substantial amount of cider and a couple of bottles of vodka, as well as a couple of boxes of sweets and chips for the purpose of drunk-snacking.
And he also didn't have a slight yet noticeable hint of vomit about him.
Oh well, it wasn't something a quick shower couldn't fix. And Chuck would probably be about twenty minutes late - if someone hadn't vomited by then, he'd be surprised.
"So we'll go to my place, I'll pick up my booze, you can hop in the shower for a bit - because, no offence, you need it, and we can, I dunno, listen to music or discuss politics or share funny stories on the way there or whatever." Suddenly remembering his obligation as a good friend (because despite appearances that was what Chuck was) to ask how Joe's prom had been, he spouted out a quick "Oh, and how was your prom?" before Joe could respond to his schedule for the evening.
Being friends with Chuck carried considerable risks. Chief amongst them was the very real possibility of being dragged to a party against your will, complete with the drinking and the dancing and committing the stupid things that end up on Facebook and cause you to have a new nickname. Yes, unlike Joe, Chuck had prepared for this party. He had acquired a substantial amount of cider and a couple of bottles of vodka, as well as a couple of boxes of sweets and chips for the purpose of drunk-snacking.
And he also didn't have a slight yet noticeable hint of vomit about him.
Oh well, it wasn't something a quick shower couldn't fix. And Chuck would probably be about twenty minutes late - if someone hadn't vomited by then, he'd be surprised.
"So we'll go to my place, I'll pick up my booze, you can hop in the shower for a bit - because, no offence, you need it, and we can, I dunno, listen to music or discuss politics or share funny stories on the way there or whatever." Suddenly remembering his obligation as a good friend (because despite appearances that was what Chuck was) to ask how Joe's prom had been, he spouted out a quick "Oh, and how was your prom?" before Joe could respond to his schedule for the evening.
-
ViolentMedic
- Posts: 813
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
Chuck evaded the question about where they were. If he never told Joe where they were... and at this stage, it seemed like he wasn't going to, since, well, that would allow Joe an exit that didn't lead to a party... then how was Joe supposed to avoid the party and find his way home? He'd be forever lost on the streets and be forced to become a hobo. Or, you know, he could call his dad. But he'd prefer to be a hobo.
Hobo. Calling his dad. Party. Stuck between a rock and a hard place... and another hard place.
Joe grumbled, "Don't wanna talk about prom. Movies lied to me. ...You're not telling me the way home, are you?" He looked at Chuck, mildly jealous that the smaller guy didn't smell like vomit at all (which hinted at a much better prom, especially since he was still up for a party) but... well, Chuck wouldn't lead him anywhere that horrible. After all, Joe was mostly judging his idea on parties by the sort of parties Travis went to, and Travis was, well...
Chuck wouldn't go anywhere too creepy or law-breaky, despite the implied blackmail about leaving Joe stranded. His dad was a policeman. Maybe it'd be okay. Worse case scenario, he could hide behind a curtain. Besides, he'd feel bad if he bummed a lift off him and then ran off the first moment he knew where he was.
Another brief moment of consideration, weighing up the possible perks of being a hobo, he sighed and said, "Uhh, I guess it's better than being lost. As long as Travis isn't there. Or else I'll take my chances on the streets. Can my bike fit in your trunk?"
Hobo. Calling his dad. Party. Stuck between a rock and a hard place... and another hard place.
Joe grumbled, "Don't wanna talk about prom. Movies lied to me. ...You're not telling me the way home, are you?" He looked at Chuck, mildly jealous that the smaller guy didn't smell like vomit at all (which hinted at a much better prom, especially since he was still up for a party) but... well, Chuck wouldn't lead him anywhere that horrible. After all, Joe was mostly judging his idea on parties by the sort of parties Travis went to, and Travis was, well...
Chuck wouldn't go anywhere too creepy or law-breaky, despite the implied blackmail about leaving Joe stranded. His dad was a policeman. Maybe it'd be okay. Worse case scenario, he could hide behind a curtain. Besides, he'd feel bad if he bummed a lift off him and then ran off the first moment he knew where he was.
Another brief moment of consideration, weighing up the possible perks of being a hobo, he sighed and said, "Uhh, I guess it's better than being lost. As long as Travis isn't there. Or else I'll take my chances on the streets. Can my bike fit in your trunk?"
-
General Goose
- Posts: 731
- Joined: Mon Aug 13, 2018 4:02 pm
"Telling you the way home?" Chuck let out a hammy, evil laugh at this suggestion. Telling Joe the way home would mean he wouldn't come to the party and make a fool of himself and have fun and stuff. Telling Joe the way home also required more than a basic knowledge of this neighbourhood of Seattle, which Chuck didn't have.
Joe was going to go to the party with him. That was a definite. Joe had no choice in the matter. Chuck felt obligated to introduce Joe to the joys of parties, and also, the more the merrier was true when applied to parties. Unless you had too many people, like one of those parties where hundreds of people from Facebook you don't even know come along and crash your house because you were irresponsible and foolish with the privacy settings. But that wasn't going to happen, and if it did...not his house, so not as bad? He'd help clean up if that happened.
But yeah, the point was, Joe was coming to the party with him. He seemed resigned to his fate now, even asking whether his bike would fit in the trunk. Chuck's car was small, but the trunk should be big enough. "Go ahead. It should fit. Just make sure I can see out the back. And no, Travis isn't invited, I think." Chuck was a bit concerned about the insistence at the party being Travis-free.
"Don't you like Travis? I thought...I KNOW you and him are tight."
Joe was going to go to the party with him. That was a definite. Joe had no choice in the matter. Chuck felt obligated to introduce Joe to the joys of parties, and also, the more the merrier was true when applied to parties. Unless you had too many people, like one of those parties where hundreds of people from Facebook you don't even know come along and crash your house because you were irresponsible and foolish with the privacy settings. But that wasn't going to happen, and if it did...not his house, so not as bad? He'd help clean up if that happened.
But yeah, the point was, Joe was coming to the party with him. He seemed resigned to his fate now, even asking whether his bike would fit in the trunk. Chuck's car was small, but the trunk should be big enough. "Go ahead. It should fit. Just make sure I can see out the back. And no, Travis isn't invited, I think." Chuck was a bit concerned about the insistence at the party being Travis-free.
"Don't you like Travis? I thought...I KNOW you and him are tight."
-
ViolentMedic
- Posts: 813
- Joined: Fri Aug 17, 2018 7:53 am
"Ehhhh..." Joe walked around to the back of the car and started shoving his bike into the trunk. "Yeah, normally. Sure. He's just... I mean..." Joe gave the bike one more, slightly-harder-than-required push before slamming the lid of the trunk on it. "Just not talking to him, alright?" Joe went back to the front of the car and clambered into the passenger's seat. "He's just... being... I dunno." Joe tended not to share his pot habits, or Travis' ones, with Chuck. He didn't know if Chuck knew or not (in the case of Travis, most of the school seemed to know) but best not to complicate things, just in case. "He's just being a jerk. Him and his stupid brownies and his... his... trivial manner concerning panic attacks and... gah, I don't even..." Joe shook his head. "It doesn't matter. If he's not there, it doesn't matter. ...Um, don't tell him I said anything mean about him. Please." Even now, Joe felt guilty for ranting about it.
Joe wrapped his arms around himself and huddled in his little corner of the car, cheek pressed against the window. "Just so you know, you're an evil, diabolical person," he added flatly, though he smiled slightly as he said it. Chuck's was a harmless sort of evil. "I'm just gonna sulk in this corner for a bit, okay?"
He withdrew a bit more into his tuxedo jacket, tugging it closer around him, before saying, "Did your prom go better, then? How was it?"
((Joe Carrasco's pregame concluded. Continued in V5.))
Joe wrapped his arms around himself and huddled in his little corner of the car, cheek pressed against the window. "Just so you know, you're an evil, diabolical person," he added flatly, though he smiled slightly as he said it. Chuck's was a harmless sort of evil. "I'm just gonna sulk in this corner for a bit, okay?"
He withdrew a bit more into his tuxedo jacket, tugging it closer around him, before saying, "Did your prom go better, then? How was it?"
((Joe Carrasco's pregame concluded. Continued in V5.))