#wbevent002.

( * / @adclaide ! ) sweaty palms? check. increased breathing? check. knots in his stomach and tightness in his chest? double check. all the symptoms of his anxiety were in full swing as spencer tried to hide the fact that just the sight of the willis tower made him physically ill. a flashing sign above him boasted that the ledge was 1353 feet and 103 stories up, which effectively drained the blood from his face. he smiled nervously at addie, who wasn’t even paying attention to him as she glanced around at all the sights and people. he would never share his fear of heights with anyone, especially not her. she would either tease him about it until the end of time, effectively sharing the news with the rest of the gang, or she would think he was a chicken shit. he wasn’t sure which was worse. all he knew was that in this moment, adelaide’s eyes were sparkling with wonder and excitement — there was no way he was ruining this for her. so he acted normal, stood in line next to her, and regrettably purchased two entry tickets for the infamous sky deck.

( * / @stellaaas ! ) it was easy to pretend spencer wasn’t stuck with his ex when they were all in separate tents spread out among the campsite. even in the cramped van, as long as he was sleeping or driving, he could pretend she wasn’t there. the only thing he regretted about stealing her clothes last night was that he interacted with her at all. sure, seeing stella get pissed off was entertaining, but now he had to face the reality of being on a summer long trip with her. maybe he’d get lucky, and she wouldn’t bring it up. maybe he could go on acting like she wasn’t tagging along. he was interrupted from his thoughts as one of the girls waved a hat in his face, telling him to pick a number out of it. apparently the two numbers that were picked beforehand were the unlucky people that had to go pick up the food. he heard his number called and grumbled to himself, but it wasn’t until he saw stella hold up her own number that he got really pissed off. “ just my luck, huh? ”

( * / @ofelodies ! ) it wasn’t common for spencer to feel sorry. if we’re being honest, it wasn’t common for spencer to feel anything, but when he did, guilt was generally at the very bottom of the list. however, the bonfire was full of regrettable acts, and perhaps ranking at number one was making elodie skinny dip. stealing her clothes was probably next in line. still, he had a reputation to uphold, and he didn’t want everyone to walk around thinking they could be expecting an apology every time he fucked with them. so he waited until he knew he would find elodie alone — her daily scheduled bible study. spencer was only aware of it because the girl had tried to convince everyone in the group to participate. knocking on her door softly before entering, he found the girl exactly where he expected, sitting at a desk with the holy book open. “ look, i’m really ... erm, sorry, ” he forced out. before she could say anything, he outstretched his hands, displaying the gift he picked out for her. it was a pale blue thermos, similar to the one she had before. “ i figured since yours was tainted with alcohol, you might want a new one... for tea, or water, or... whatever. ”

( * / @giannajpg ! ) while everyone else scurried out to see the sights, spencer took the opportunity to nap off his hangover while there was still some peace and quiet at the airbnb. the bonfire was definitely a night to remember, despite doing some things he’d probably rather forget. either way, sleep found him easily, and he welcomed it to take away what felt like a war going on in his head. a few hours passed and he finally rose from his slumber, hearing someone flush a toilet. peaking his head around the corner, he saw gianna standing at the sink, washing her hands. he snuck up behind her and leaned against the door frame, not bothering to throw a shirt on. “ you been here the whole time? ” he questioned, one eyebrow raised above the other.

( * / @godillon ! ) after a long first night in chicago, several bodies were spread about the airbnb. some passed out drunk, while others — namely, elodie — had gone to bed completely sober and at a decent time. spencer’s phone read 3:15am, but for some reason he couldn’t find his way to sweet dreaming. a cigarette might fix that, he thought. pushing himself off the couch, he navigated through the dark until he was at the balcony door. he stepped out into the brisk air and stuck a hand in his pocket to pull out his pack of menthols. putting one to his lips, he fumbled for his lighter when something — no, someone — caught his attention. “ shit, dude, ” he said, spotting dillon. “ i wasn’t expecting anyone else to be out here so late. ” finally lighting the cigarette, he extended the pack to the other boy, raising his eyebrows as if they asked the question for him.