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Snippet #2622469

located in Laurea, New York, a part of Laurel, one of the many universes on RPG.

Laurea, New York

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anthony Carraway Character Portrait: Aimee Hart Character Portrait: Lucas Long
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Lucas woke up around 5 pm feeling refreshed and happy in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. He got...what...7 hours of sleep last night and today combined? Hell, that was almost a normal amount of time! He couldn't remember the last time he slept more than 4. His mouth quirked into a vaguely confused smile (because rarely, if ever, were his smiles not unsure-looking) and he headed out to get a quick bite before the bonfire.

In the dining hall, there was a tenseness in the air, and on people's minds. He couldn't quite piece together what it was, because the event that people were thinking about seemed to have happened hours ago and they weren't thinking of it explicitly, but there was a subtle undercurrent of fear of some--he couldn't get a name--some princess in the school. Damn, there's royalty living here...? He decided it was probably euphemistic, because why would actual royalty be staying at a freaking high school over the summer, no matter how fancy the school? Despite that, he did wonder why people seemed to think of this person as a literal princess. Good old high school drama, I suppose...never get tired of that, he thought derisively.

Ugh, this bonfire..., he thought as he walked around campus, hearing the topic on most people's minds, will probably be full of that crap. Part of him insisted he'd be better off lying in his dorm room and avoiding the whole thing. Still, it'd be a chance to meet new people. Maybe fit in--ok, maybe not be so excluded. And if I just lay low, don't make any waves, don't drink, do not try to dance, (he remembered last time and shivered) everything should be a-ok...

-----Bonfire-----

When Lucas arrived at the bonfire-- fairly early because he had nothing else to do-- things were relatively calm. There was a thumping bass that he could feel in his bones and hear, distorted, through people's ears; otherwise there weren't many people dancing and more importantly, not much drama. He looked around and supposed the 'princess' had not arrived yet.

The acrid smell of smoke was sort of pleasant, but it still scratched his throat a bit so he headed over to the drinks table. Some girl, Aimee,--who was, wow, already buzzed, moved aside for him. As he looked over the drinks, his mouth twisted into a frown. They never have anything but alcohol at these damn parties. Isn't this a high school?! He grumbled and took a cup of just ice to bring back to the log he had been sitting at.

And then he tripped.

What he tripped on he couldn't be damned to say, and a more accurate description would've been that his legs just gave out on him as the body of a severely sleep-deprived person is wont to do, just buckled suddenly under the burden of fatigue, but he wasn't thinking of that at the moment. He wasn't really thinking of anything other than shit, not again,. His hand shot out in the darkness and instinctively grabbed the closest thing to him, which unfortunately was the buzzed girl's arm, and the momentum wrenched them both downwards until they hit the ground, him with a face full of dirt and her crumpled on top of him.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit "Shit, I'm so sorry," he said, scrambling back to a sitting position. His face burned with shame. Shit. Fuck. Fuck! "I'm sorry, I-I just, I don't know what happened..."

You fucked up, that's what happened,
his inner voice helpfully explained. Every time you do something, you fuck up. Good job, Lucas. He squeezed his eyes shut to push down the tears pricking at his eyes, which he told himself were from the smoke, from the pain of the fall, and shook his head to try and silence the malicious voice in his head that was whispering, Good job. Good fucking job. He also tried to ignore the growing voices, outside thoughts, that were turning toward him, stares that were turning toward the scene. None of these things was especially working.

He hastily stood back up again, glancing alternately down at the girl and up at the guy she was talking to, who was, fuck, now splashed with the remains of her drink.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry... he mumbled, and stuck out his hand to try and help up the girl.
So much for making friends, right?