May 29, 2018
“Besides the fashion, I honestly know next to nothing about what happened in the 90s,” he admitted. “I went to a prep school that didn’t allow Lisa Frank binders or Tamogochis...”
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“Besides the fashion, I honestly know next to nothing about what happened in the 90s,” he admitted. “I went to a prep school that didn’t allow Lisa Frank binders or Tamogochis...”
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After three straight weeks of non-stop work and classes, with very little sleep in between, the last thing Easton wanted to do was go to a party. But he knew he had to make an appearance at the very least. He couldn’t stay a hermit forever, even though a small part of him truly wanted to. So he forced himself to irritate a theater student into doing his character makeup, and wandered over to the event.
The laughs and screams mixing together had a headache beginning at the base of his skull, and the cellist knew that he’d need some social lubricant to get through this. Easton flashed his ID at the bartender and asked for a scotch, neat. “Fuck it... make it a double,” he tagged on. Once it was slid to him, he downed it in one shot and signaled for one more.
Easton gave out a slightly irritated huff before taking a sip of his beer. While he didn’t mind the ambiance; bonfires were usually good times in his world... he did mind that most of the people here were well underage so far. His irritation was set at a higher level after he’d gotten the text that Mitchell wouldn’t be able to join him for this little soiree. He knew the man was busy on weekend with his hotel, but a part of him still found it mildly annoying while still thinking working all the time was admirable.
Instead of dwelling on the fact that his boyfriend wasn’t here to entertain him, he focused on the warmth of the fire and the nice weather. For once, it didn’t feel like he’d burn within ten minutes of arriving. The cellist took his time setting up his own area that included a blanket near a log that he could sit on and a cooler that held his own personal snacks. Easton usually enjoyed the things the culinary department made, but this time, he didn’t want to impose on them as much. They were busy people all year round. It didn’t make sense to impose on them even during the summer months.
“At least it’s a nice night, right?” he mused to the person nearest to him, not really caring who it was he was speaking to.