Something felt weird: perhaps it was his neck? That was all Jackson truly understood as his eyes fluttered open to the gorgeous view of the brown carpet floor. A few blinks to refocus, and the world seemed to crash onto his awkwardly crooked neck as Jackson began to fully realize the situation. It seemed, after last night's shenanigans, he had fallen asleep only to find himself half on the bed and half on the floor. A groan of annoyance escaped him as he attempted to roll the rest of his body off of his bed, only to hit a table. "Ow..." His annoyed mutter reached his ears as he finally found himself sprawled out on the floor, finally parallel to the world that he was resting on. A few efforts later, Jackson pushed himself up to a standing position, his neck a little crooked from the kink that had formed from his sleeping habit.
A yawn escaped his lips as he looked around for his phone as he tried to stretch out his neck. The TV was still on, the Mario 64 pause menu music just now fading into existence as he realized he had left it on since he left for the night. The only reason he had been playing the bad ass game was because he had hit a lull period in his vacation: more like Jackson hadn't a clue what to do. He had only been on the island for two days, with last night being his first real party. For some reason, he was having difficulty finding locals or tourists of his own age bracket to party with; so most of his time recently had been just touring around looking for something to do. When he finally found some people, they had said that the party didn't start until last night, which prompted the game: if he had to wait, he might as well have fun with it. Too bad that the crowd that he had found himself in last night were mostly frat boys and jockeys. While he didn't care about who he partied with ever, he never could associate with guys who could spend more money on shirts than he did on groceries for the week.
Nevertheless, it had been a fun night: especially since he got to try some of the local grass, which nearly sent him for a nose dive: yeah, the kid easily labeled as a professional stoner had been blown away by the shit the locals gave him. Maybe that was why he was feeling so weird this morning. Sure, he did drink a lot, but perhaps that stuff had been as good as was 'advertised'. Finally loosening his neck up a little, Jackson wandered around his room in a slight daze as he picked some things up after himself. The room was just the right size for a guy that hadn't planned on staying indoors: small, quaint and had the essentials that included a shower, a TV and a bed. Stashing the empty liquor bottles in a corner, Jackson threw his clothes off and got into the shower, letting the cold water turn to warm as he stood there. After a quick shave, a placement of piercings and change of clothing - if he wasn't loose enough to board, he didn't own it - Jackson turned off the TV while he grabbed his phone to check the time and messages. He ignored the fact that the day was already half over to read the three new messages he had gotten. Two were from fratboys saying that there was a party or something tonight that the locals were hosting, and that they were gunna crash the shit out of it. While he hadn't planned on crashing a party, Jackson smiled at the idea: hopefully, if he found a friend amongst the locals, he could ditch the frat boys and get down to some seriously partying and fun. Maybe even learn to surf. The third text seemed like a drunk text from some girl that he had chatted up last night whose name and face were coming up blank.
With thumbs of lead, Jackson slowly got a text out to the fratboys to count him in, counting on their ignorance to get him out of their circle. The text took five minutes, but he had just gotten into the whole texting scene, since he hadn't been able to afford a cell phone after his drug abuse and rehab. The phone had actually been a present from his parents so that he could text them to find where they were moving, and as an outlet in case... well, in case shit happened. With the texts out, Jackson grabbed his beanie, clipped his skateboard to his minibackpack (why, yes it does house some alcohol) and 'surfed' his longboard out the door of the hotel. His travel agent had wanted him to stay at the Kealoha hotel, but as much as it looked swanky and nice, it was seriously out of his price range; even if their value was pretty damn good. So with all of his sunglasses and beanie on, Jackson surfed the land on his longboard, hoping to find something to do while he waited for the party tonight.
An annoyingly long time later...
Jackson was beginning to regret the decision of coming with a bunch of college frat boys and their sorority girls. Not only did they show up at the weirdest time to crash a party, but they kept getting dirty looks from the others that appeared to be the natives. While he knew the dirty looks were obvious, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was probably a bad idea. Nevertheless, he left his fake I.D in his pocket while he went shot for shot against another frat boy, knocking the inexperienced chump out of the water. So far, that had been the highlight of the night, which was more than disappointing to him: his whole goal was to somehow find a friend amongst the locals, and here he was beating college students in shots. Not the way to really win the friendship of the locals. Jackson gave a sigh as he stayed seated at the table where a few others were, sticking out like... well, like a Detroit native in a bunch of Hawaiians. While everybody around him chatted, he did some people watching, curious as to what this party was even for and what these people were up to. He knew it wasn't his style to strike conversations with others randomly, so the best he could hope for was either that a native came to him, or some for of radical party change/brawl brought him to a native.