#p:fire

[We are garbage people and lost a chunk of the Chatzy, but nothing really happened anyway. Esme met up with Miles and his dad sent a driver to pick him up because he didn’t trust him to come on his own. Miles didn’t tell anybody he was bringing a guest, and when they walked in hand in hand and Miles looking smug as usual, his dad was furious. They walked away from the crowd and Esme suggested they take the edge off by partaking in a special cookie she brought along.]

Miles laughed as he broke another piece of the cookie. "Anything to get elected. We're supposed to be this perfect family" he explained. Looking around, he saw his family members doing their role and being part of it. Looking back at Esme he continued with his response. "I guess I'm part of the act" he said as he finished his piece.

Esme cocked her head just slightly, suddenly curious about the deeper meaning of Miles' words. "And you're not?" She pressed gently, popping another cookie chunk into her mouth. "Really? Because your dad didn't sound like he thinks you're being too perfect right now. Is my being here going to piss him off that much?"

Miles: "Just me coming here is playing a small part of it" He explained. Not that he had much of a choice. "You being here was just the start." He was being honest. If what they planned on doing on later succeeded he would be angrier about the other things down their list. Hearing the soft slow music playing in the background reminded him how boring this event was. He lead Esme to a place near the pool where a group of guests were. Without hesitation, he spun her around not caring if they bumped into the guests. His dancing was way too fast for the music but at this point he was in own world with Esme.

Esme's interest was still very much piqued, Miles' bare explanation only serving to exasperate that, but she wasn't there to learn his life story, she was there as a buffer in some sense, and a partner in crime all the same. Accepting the brief elaboration for now, Esme simply nodded, turning to follow along as he marked their next location outside. Turning to face him, assuming a conversation was in the works, she gasped softly as he maneuvered her around, the sound quickly turning to a giggle as the haze began to wash over her, glancing over her shoulder as she knocked into a number of classy clad party goers around them. "This wasn't part of the plan," she laughed, steadying herself with a hand on his chest.

Miles laughed as he held onto her, keeping the both of them on their feet. “Plans change” he said a little too loudly. In the midst of all the dancing he stopped midway as he became a little dizzy from all the fast movement. His eyes were now on his dad who was watching them. More laughter came out of Miles as his dad was coming closer to them. “Come on,” he said quickly taking her hand. He shoved a few people out of the way until they were at the edge of the pool. “Let’s give them some to remember,” he said as he took off his jacket and loosened up his tie.

Esme was beginning to think that she had Miles pegged wrong. It was clear that he was overdue for a little average teenage rebellion, but without a plan up his sleeve, he was doing awfully well at conjuring on the spot. She wasn't even sure where the Hollingsworth patriarch was, too enthralled in Miles' behavior, but she was having a good time either way, letting him lead her around the backyard. "I didn't agree to a striptease," she grinned, watching as he shed his outerwear.

Miles: "Looks like it's your lucky day" he devilishly smiled, removing his shoes. He looked down at the water and then back at Esme holding her hand. Without anymore hesitation he jumped in, bringing the girl with her. He reached the bottom of the pool and slowly made his way up. More laughter erupted from him as he moved his hair out of his face. Miles then moved closer to where Esme was with a feeling of satisfaction.

Esme felt her head turning curiously, a slow smirk forming as Miles kicked off more pieces of his attire. She herself stayed clothed, not knowing in advance that Miles was planning the impromptu dip in the pool until she was suddenly being tugged into the temperate water. As she surfaced, a heavy bout of laughter ripped through her, glancing down at the white blouse plastered to her soaked form. "Your dad is so going to kick your ass for this," she grinned, completely oblivious to the entente she'd accidentally created.

Miles took a quick look to her chest remembering she was wearing white. He looked back up at her with the smile fading away with the comment she made . The mere mention of it brought him back to reality, changing his entire mood. He swam to the edge of the pool and pushed himself up to get out. He was met with all different kinds of looks from the guests. His eyes widened once his dad reached him and dragged him inside to one of the empty rooms.

Esme wasn't sure what it was that caused just a quick shift in Miles, but she barely had time to think it through before he was removing himself from the water. Lingering for a moment, she followed suit, slowly climbing the ladder in front of the large audience glancing her (and her very visible undergarment's) way. She caught sight of Miles' father approaching, hanging back for a moment to not get caught in the crossfire. She'd planned to keep her distance, but it quickly dawned on her that her purse and the evidence of the contents she and Miles had shared earlier was inside the house, right near where the two were walking to. Sprinting to the side door, Esme let herself into the house, darting to the living room to grab the bag and find another room to stash it in for the time being.

Miles‘ heart was racing as he was in close proximity with his dad. He could feel it, the numbing sensation that had his whole body suddenly heating up. As he tried taking more breaths he felt a sharp pain, making him want to gasp for even more air. Everything faded away, the yelling from his dad and the shoving. The sound of his heart beating seemed to get louder and there was nothing Miles could say or do. Nothing came out as he tried getting out of this state of darkness. He shakily moved his hand to the back of his neck, slowly tugging his hair The younger boy was now alone in the room shaking unable to stop the current state he was in. His eyes widened as the door was being opened thinking it was his dad again. He tried to move but found himself not being able to.

Esme was none the wiser to the tumultuous scene unfolding in the next room over, focused only on hiding her party goods before any real trouble could arise. Tucking the bag away, she bound back through the house to find Miles, figuring that he'd like an escape from the lecture he was surely receiving. Finding him easily enough, her expression faltered at the sight, scanning his stony features for a moment before speaking. "Uh, you okay? The cookie wasn't that strong, you're not having a reaction to it or something, are you?" She asked, not making the connection to the older man that had just left the space. "You're shaking," she noted, putting a hand on his arm to try to still him. "You're probably going into hypothermia shock or something, you should have kept all of your clothes on."

Miles just kept shaking his head unable to properly form a sentence to explain or tell her how he felt. He shut his eyes closed taking deep breaths to escape this dreadful feeling. A few minutes and he was finally able to breathe correctly. He immediately sat down on the floor, keeping his down. Not wanting to keep eye contact with Esme. He wasn’t sure what to even say because he couldn’t explain the sudden events that occurred not too long ago. This wasn’t the first time he’s gotten like this, he could name a few other times it happened. But it never got this bad. It scared him that he didn’t have control.

Esme didn't actually think the drugs were the cause of Miles' meltdown, but she didn't have any other plausible notions in mind to why he was crumpling before her eyes. Watching as he slunk to the ground, she waited a beat before kneeling beside him, trying to gauge his eyes. "Okay, maybe it's a different kind of shock, should I get your parents or something...?"

Miles looked up at the mention of his parents and quickly said no. He didn't want them there, especially his dad. "Don't bring them in here. Please, don't" he begged, daring to actually look at her. There was silence again as he collected his thoughts. He never told anyone about what would happen to him with his dad. None of it seemed to matter. "I don't want to be alone with him again," he said taking a pause, "it just makes everything worse".

Esme moved to press to her feet, quickly stopped in her tracks by Miles' shaky insistence not to involve his family. He seemed far too shaken to have simply been yelled at, but Esme couldn't be sure what other factors were in play to have changed his mood so vastly. Stopping abruptly, she dropped back down to her knees, her jaw popping open to speak. "Okay, I won't," she murmured, carefully watching the boy. "I was only gone for a minute, what happened? Is he that mad?"

Miles nodded. Mad was an understatement but it was a start in telling her what exactly happened. "He just started yelling a lot and I tried to just talk but I-I couldn't," he started explaining, "I couldn't breathe and he just kept shoving and pushing me to things. I-I guess me not answering him just frustrated him more". His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to talk. "In the middle of everything I just, I- everything was blocked out." He tried his best to explain. All of his words and thoughts just mixed all together

Esme figured she would receive an explanation of sorts, but the frenzy she got instead caught her far too off guard. She let him finish, keeping her hand atop his arm as if it would keep him together, her own nerves surfacing as he stumbled over his words. "Okay, okay, just... calm down," she plead, know she knew firsthand that it was better said than done. Hearing the blip about his father's physical actions, she felt guilty for being indirectly responsible for the tiff. "Do you want something a little stronger than cookies?"

Miles never told anyone about what would happen behind close doors. When he was younger it would be small. Some ear pulling or being pulled way too hard. He just figured one day it would stop. Here he was 16 years old and it got worse. Raising his brow in curiosity, he asked "What do you have?". At this point he just wanted to feel better and forget. The girl next to him might be able to help him, nothing else was so it didn't hurt to find another way.

Esme hadn't offered out her ailments in the past, keeping their existence a secret altogether, but in this case, she felt that it was deserving to be doling them. Hesitating, she pondered to herself whether it was wise to be pumping him full of more of her drugs, ultimately deciding that it couldn't hurt anything. Wanting to at least drive him away from catatonia, she stood up, walking back into the room she'd stored her belongings in, fishing out a buried vial and plucking out two pills. Palming the secrets, she returned to Miles, holding out her closed fist. "You've eaten today, right?"

Miles watched her walk away to get whatever she needed. He stayed seated on the ground rubbing the back of his neck. The only thing that was remotely soothing at the moment. Looking up at the girl standing in front of her, he took notice at her fist. "Yeah" he simply said. He reached out his palm to her to take what she had for him.

Esme nodded upon Miles' confirmation. She'd do what she could to help, but she didn't want to be responsible if next time his troubles really were born of the drug use she was aiding him in. It struck her that this was precisely the type of relationship that got her in trouble the year prior, but Miles seemed much more on par with things than Jonah had, so she'd run with the straws she could grasp at. "Good," she murmured, dropping one of the tablets into his upturned hand. "You might feel weird at first when it mixes with the cookie, but fight through it and it'll get better," she instructed, dry swallowing her own dose.

Miles smiled weakly, swallowing the pill after she did. There was nobody else that offered help, although he never expressed what he did today the problems he was facing. It didn't matter to him because he found some help in Esme and he accepted it. Getting up from the floor, he looked down at the puddle of water they both formed from their clothes. "Should we get out of here?" He suggested.

Esme eyed Miles as he popped the substance, nodding in encouragement as it was swallowed down. It wasn't a conventional assistance, nor was it a step in the right direction for her, but it was what she knew and if Miles wasn't turning her away, it was worth it to her. Smiling softly at him, hoping to spur on a calmer state, she nodded more visibly, standing back up and offering out her hand to help him to his feet. "Where to?"

Miles: "My room, I have some clothes you can borrow," he said as he pointed out her wet clothes. There was a bit of hesitation for him to leave the room but then he found the courage to do so. He lead the way to his room, opening the door for her to enter. He rummaged through his drawer finding suitable clothes for the two of them. "So..." he started, "why do you have these pills?". This was on his mind a bit curious as to why she had them.

Esme nodded, turning on her heels to follow the short path up to Miles' bedroom. In the moments of chaos preceding the temporary solution, she'd forgotten the indecent state she was in, trying to make modest out in the open by tugging the shirt away; a lost cause as it clung to her. Stepping into the room, she took a quick visual survey of the space, accepting the bundle of clothing when it was hoisted her way. Without much thought, she set them aside, freeing both hands to peel her sopping shirt away and brushing off the water left behind on her skin. Pausing, she glanced over, not anticipating being questioned for her supply. "Why does it matter if they make you feel better?" She shrugged, noting how lame her answer came.

Miles began removing his wet clothes and tossing it to the floor. He took the dry clothes and slipped them on. "I guess it doesn't" he finished questioning her. He noticed the tone in her voice so he just dropped it. There was no point in dragging something out of a person who didn't want to talk. Grabbing a towel, he rubbed it on his hair for it to dry. He walked over to Esme and handed her one as well. "Thanks for helping," he said referencing to the pill.

Esme didn't mean to come off as dismissive as she realized she had, but if the accidental harshness would end the explanation before it began, she wouldn't dispute it. Staying quiet for a few moments until she knew that the line of questioning had ended, she reached out to take the dry towel, patting down her cold skin and squeezing what moisture she could out of her braid. "No problem," she lithed, her tone lighter. "Does that happen to you a lot? The panicking and stuff?"

Miles felt more comfortable in his new dry clothes and overall felt a bit more ease "Just a few times. Mostly when I'm home," he explained, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. The pill was slowly taking its effect to Miles and he reminded himself what Esme told him earlier.

Esme didn't know what was coming over her, but as Miles' brief response, she felt a sense of something close to obligation to expand on the subject. "I know what you mean. I hate going home too," she commented, pulling on her borrowed attire and bounding onto the bed, sitting Indian style in the middle. "At least my parents mean well, I guess," she shrugged. "Feeling better now?"

Miles didn’t expect to be revealing this much to anyone, especially to someone he just met. He listened as she continued to talk about her own personal experience. Letting his eyes wander to the ceiling, he nodded. “I guess the whole fun is over. Sorry.” he apologized. It was now he regretted ever doing any of the things he did earlier. It only made things worse for him.

Esme made herself more comfortable atop the bed, laying back and closing her eyes. For his despondent tone, Esme could tell that Miles hadn't taken well to her innocent enough meaning line of questioning, an if it weren't for the chemical calm in her veins, she would feel sorry for that. Hearing his pessimism, she opened her eyes, peering over to the hardened face across from her. "Says who? Your dad is busy at the party, we can make our own fun," she suggested.

Miles was now understanding what Esme meant earlier about how the pill would make him feel. Shutting his eyes, he reminded himself to just relax and that it would feel a bit weird. Opening them again he turned slightly to make eye contact with her. "Like what," he asked.

Esme, even through her growing haze could tell that the medication was taking a toll on Miles, smiling softly to herself that he was at best talked down from his frenzy. Crossing her ankles at the foot of the bed, she shrugged in response, a few thoughts tinkering through her head. "How mad would your family get if we got tattoos?" She smirked, glancing over for a reaction.

Miles rubbed his eye tiredly as he heard her suggestion. "A tattoo?" He repeated to himself. He scrunched his nose in confusion as he wasn't in the right state in thinking properly. "They would hate. Totally. They hate everything." He mumbled.

Esme grinned, wide and devilish as Miles didn't outright shoot down her suggestion, seeming to consider it as a valid option. She hadn't entirely expected him to be game, but now that he was pondering it, she had to acknowledge how much a splash of ink would get to others. "Sounds like a perfect solution, then," she grinned, sitting up. "I may know someone, I can arrange this before Thanksgiving break," she offered.

Miles lay down on his bed looking up at his ceiling as she went on about their future plan. "Okay, okay. Cool," he nodded, keeping his eyesight up. Staring into the void a random thought popped into his head. "Do you think you can go down and sneak some food here?" He asked.