Snippet #2813943

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Honestly, this was a good party. Good music, the atmosphere was great, everyone around seemed to be enjoying themselves, as far as Monet could tell. They were happy with it all, but they knew they’d likely grow tired of it if they didn’t eventually cross paths with someone they could really engage with. Monet supposed they could have been paying closer attention, because they very quickly found themself running into someone. Shit, they thought, but realized who it was before any sort of apology could slip past their lips. Monet laughed and squeezed Isaac as tightly as they could. Monet grinned when he complimented their hat, but very quickly adopted a more stern expression, “You, sir,” They pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, “Should have popped by when you got back. I missed you entirely too much.” They were just kidding, mostly. Monet had missed Isaac; they’d missed all their friends. A bright smile spread back across their face, “You look great! If you weren’t so much taller than me I might threaten to steal your jacket.”

Isaac said he was hungry, and Monet raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t eat before you came?” There was a gentle sort of concern in their voice: Isaac needed something to eat, or else he would be absolutely miserable when he started drinking. Of course, he probably just hadn’t had the time. The theatre program could be pretty demanding, so it wasn’t a shock. They grabbed onto Isaac’s hand so they wouldn’t get seperated, and set out to where they assumed some food could be found, “How was your break?” They were, of course, curious, but they also just wanted something to talk about. “It was boring as hell here with everyone gone for the holidays.” Monet looked over the food options, but they weren’t really all that hungry. Still, some chips or something never hurt anyone.

Then Monet heard a familiar voice say, “Hey!” And that, combined with the warm hug, brought a grin right to their face.

“Lucy!” Monet practically squealed as they hugged their friend, “Look at you! You look incredible! I love your top.” Then they turned to Carla, and gave an exaggerated gasp, “My god. You look fantastic, too. Very sexy.”

Now, with their friends around, Monet’s heart felt a little fuller. There was something about the certainty of being among the people you care about. Monet was such a social individual, and being here among their friends felt like exactly what they’d needed.

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Booker didn’t mind his family, but he preferred to see them in smaller doses. All he heard about was how well his sister was doing in med school, his cousin was getting married, his mother’s best friend’s sister’s kid just had a baby, and anything about him was an afterthought. He was happy for his sister, and his cousin, (and he guessed he was happy enough for his mother’s obscure acquaintance he’d never met), but if he were being honest it was grating. He didn’t need to hear about his sister’s gpa for a tenth time, he had it memorized after the third.

He didn’t talk about school much, though. Certainly not about the student that had been murdered. Booker was a little worried about it, obviously, but he had to hope that it was an isolated event. He didn’t need his parents insisting he try to transfer in the middle of the school year. Booker liked Cascadia; he had friends there, he liked the area, the professors. If things got worse, he’d consider it, but as it was he didn’t want to even really consider leaving.

As it was, he was glad to be back. Having some space from his family, he felt like he could breathe again. He always forgot how smothering his mother could be until he was back in her presence. He’d arrived back on campus really last minute, just a few days before classes started back up, and adjusting back to classes was never the easiest thing to do. Booker wasn’t complaining, though, he really thrived at Cascadia, and he enjoyed most of his classes. Maybe he was a nerd, or maybe all the studying was something to focus on so he didn’t have to face his own issues.

Either way, when Booker heard about the party, he figured it could be good for him. The compounding stresses of everything that had been going on meant that even Booker could use a breather. He didn’t tend to go to parties, and everyone that had ever invited him to one knew that he was more likely to say he needed to study than agree to show up, so the times he did show up people acted like it was an act of God or something. “You came!” or “You made it!” or “Wow, I never thought I’d see you outside the library!” Comedic genius, really.

Booker had never really cared for punctuality at these types of parties- it didn’t matter much, and he wasn’t going at all if he didn’t finish everything he needed to do. But here he was, with an offering of some craft beer he’d brought back from Wisconsin. There were quite a few people at this party. He spotted some he’d rather avoid, others he didn’t mind. He figured he’d start with dropping his drinks off; he was willing to share.

He offered a smile to anyone he knew as he went, and he almost went right up to talk to Darcy when he spotted her (she looked really pretty. Well, she was always pretty, but her dress was very nice.), but she seemed to have made herself part of a small group, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to interrupt. Still, he tried to catch her attention by waving at her. He didn’t want to pull her away from her conversation, but if he were being completely honest, he’d missed her over the break. They hadn’t had an abundance of time to catch up since classes had started back up, and he hoped that they'd have a little time to talk, at least.