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Will lets out a laugh, loud and booming like he's just told the funniest joke, and Coy feels his stomach squeeze painfully. It isn't usual for him to be at parties, nor is it usual for him to talk to strangers— mostly, it is absolutely not usual at all for him to feel so drawn to said stranger that he'd call himself bewitched. Yeah, he's a little bewitched by Birthday Boy Will. Hanbon's Etsy witches are probably at fault. "It was alright." Will looks at him with a sparkle in his eye, takes a swing of his own drink, and almost knocks over the seasoning rack that Coy knows is not Anthony's doing. "Created a pretty cool friendship, so I think I'd do it again." "You'd take a GenEd class again for Anthony?" He shakes his head, coily hair moving in tandem. "I think I'd do a lot of things for the people I love, you know? Even if it inconveniences me. Wouldn't you?" Well, I'm here, Coy wants to say, but he stays quiet. His teeth cling to the inside of his cheek, twisting skin until his jaw aches a little. He's here for Hanbon and for Anthony, but he's also here because he needs to get out of his head. It feels, though, that the more people surround him, the more inside his head he is. Coy isn't good at the whole not-drowning-in-anxiety thing. He isn't good at the whole being alive thing.