Snippet #1372475

Dull teal eyes scanned over the various entrees absolutely repulsed and unamused. This food was nasty. This party was much to formal. This music was getting on his nerves. So were the people. It was too loud, too crowded, too stuffy. Sora's negative thoughts of this drab party could have gone on and one, but it wouldn't do any good. Unbelievably formal parties like this weren't his cup of tea whatsoever. He was used to the kind of underground raves in dark lit rooms with flashing lights, loud music, and crazy teenagers where you had to keep an eye on your drink before someone slipped something into it. He grinned slightly. Now those were his kind of parties.

Here, the most fun you could have is talking to others and reminicsing about the past, or talking plans for the future, which he promptly refused to talk to anyone. Sure, there was dancing, it was just stale, stuffy, boring, formal, and slow. If only he could liven up this party... if one could even call it that. Pacing slightly, and avoiding idle conversation with old acquaintances, Sora noticed a new, slightly familiar face stumble into the room. It was Neyo, and he looked very out of place here. While they weren't friends or anything, Sora certainly knew of Neyo, but not too much about him. Hell, he doesn't even know his real name and didn't find out that "Neyo" was a nickname until a few weeks ago. He sighed deeply upon gazing at his outfit. It certainly wasn't in Sora's style, but he envied Neyo's boldness and bravery. "Lucky son-of-a-bitch..." he mumbled under his breath.