PETER SIMMONS
outfit: x x location: beaumont high x hex: #7B8F97
outfit: x x location: beaumont high x hex: #7B8F97
As he rounded the table to go say hello to Tommy he was bumped into by Trinity Meadows, definitely already tipsy from most likely a pregame session with the cheerleaders. Unfortunately for Peter this meant the contents of the 'vampire' punch she was holding spilled all down the front of his white shirt. It looked like a murder scene. PJ grimaced as Trinity tilted her head to the side, giggling manically, "Oops! My bad!" before pushing past him back to her congregation of plastics. "Thanks! It's not like I spent my entire paycheck renting this damn thing" Peter called after her his voice dying as he neared the end of the sentence. "This is just - great" He mumbled as he half-heartedly tried to dab the large stain out with a multitude of napkins but the damage was already done. PJ glanced a few more times at the dance floor before quickly making his way out of the gym and into the hallway.
It was dark, save for the strips of moonlight peeling out of the windows that painted the floor beneath his feet. As he walked towards the bathrooms the sound of the music coming from the gym began to fade to a dull hum. He would be lying if he wasn't a bit creeped out. Peter pushed the door into the boy's bathroom, taking a quick peak at the stalls noticing one of them was closed. Avoiding any sort of awkward encounter with one of the students he coughed slightly to let his presence be known but the bathroom remained eerily silent. "Alright then" He mumbled under his breath and went to the sink closest to the door, grabbed a handful of paper towels, wet them, and began to dab his undershirt like he had watched his mom do countless times when he had gotten something on his shirt. It only seemed to just dilute the red color and spread it further. He kept giving half glances back to the stall - which remained closed - and felt the hair on the back of his neck begin to stand. Something wasn't right.
Then began the scratching. It was subtle at first and for a moment he thought he was hallucinating. It was coming from the stall. He tossed his mess of paper towels into the trash and didn't move any closer to the stall. "Hello?" He spoke quietly, his voice bouncing off the walls in an echo. As soon as he spoke the scratching stopped abruptly, and PJ's face paled. "Hey, this isn't funny okay" He could only assume it was one of the Lacrosse boys poking fun at him. Brook most likely put them up to it. "Seriously, who's there?" Peter's voice took on a more angry tone, this wasn't the first time someone had tried to scare him. After his brother passed, he became the butt of most jokes around Beaumont. Some of the Lacrosse boys went as far as dressing up like wolves and hiding in his backyard to scare him, his dad chased them all out with a rifle. They had died down even since Peter began flying under the radar.
"Okay really this is just stupid, I-" As soon as Peter took one step towards the stall someone began violently pounding on the door from the inside and he cried out falling backwards into the trashcan. He scrambled to his feet and dashed for the door throwing it open, and ran down the hall. Peter took the chance to glance behind him a few times, and felt as if he saw something but he was too scared to think about it. As the sounds of the gym got closer he began to feel more safe and slowed his pace taking one more look behind him, nothing. Maybe he really did just imagine all of it. As he turned back forward, he ran smack into someone in front of him, nearly taking them both down together.