✏ 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬.

𝐤𝐢𝐝 𝐤𝐫𝐨𝐰

→ tw // mentions of alcohol.

     

       

"This party's shit."

Techno pauses, thoughts an incoherent mess underneath the flicker of neon cherry blossom cloy in it's resplendent cascade, the cacophony of trashy hip hop fostering a vicious headache. Wilbur was right - and uncommonly frank about it, almost earning a salacious giggle from the teen if it hadn't been for the physical misery wrought in the form of a killer headache. The liquor was fucking warm to the touch, someone's vomitted on the carpet a few minutes ago and it's starting to stink up the room, and the people here stunk more than the regurgitated sandwich.

Quite honestly, he'd wish to be done with it all and defenestrate himself. And judging from the golden boy's surreptitious scowl, he shared the same sentiment, and also from his vocal disparaging of this shitfest.

Without much thought, he mouths something, and then forgot, probably something along the lines of, 'Agreed', before cautiously eyeing his cup of beer, untouched from it's grotesque violations of the Geneva Convention; it's congruent to potassium cyanide at its current state.

Prince Charming runs his fingers through his hair, shooting an impish smirk at the brunette opposite of him, mouthing something Techno almost couldn't catch, "Let's go home. I miss Phil, and Tommy's less annoying than the music."

'Oh, thank god', is the first thing that crosses his mind. Was Techno going to gainsay him? No, no, no. Please, save him. Free him from the clutches of snobby kids pretending to be rich. Techno's going to have a conniption soon, or a possible seizure from that disco ball. Either one a more pleasurable outcome than spending more time here.

"Thank god." Techno heaves with relief. "I was beginning to think you were actually enjoying this."

"Yeah, shut up, Techno. You still okay to drive?"

Techno shrugs his shoulders. "Probably. Didn't drink anything, don't want to either."

Wilbur shoots him a smile. "Good."

Of course, not wanting their escapade to be found out, they slip through a window, their red plastic cups long abandoned on the dank floor. Take that, rich kid, Techno jests with twigs and branches tugging at his jeans, awkwardly tiptoeing past nettles and other flora foreign to him. Wilbur laughs at his attempts to stay safe, and Techno flips him off. It wasn't long till Techno was fumbling in his pockets for a key, and driving home, Wilbur talking about something he filtered into white noise, probably something about love or romance, which is boring.

Hands still trained on the steering wheel, Techno sarcastically rolls his eyes at another one of Wilbur's jokes, responding with a witty jab. He misses home.

[ press the star button i heard that you can get a free twitch prime sub to dream or tommy especially if you get your friends to press it too so please press it 😊 ]