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There are many parties and celebrations going across town; for whatever reason, you are in a part of town where live music is playing and everyone is dancing all around. You lock eyes with someone in the crowd and, in all the movement, the crowd winds up pushing you together. Whether intentional or accidental, you get one dance together before you are separated. Was this person someone you know or a complete stranger and, did you want the dance or did you try to escape it? --Will you ever find each other again afterwards?
George looked down at the hand Glen was holding. He couldn't believe it! Glen, holding his hand, partying with him! He tried not feel...the whatever feeling, because it wasn't like the excited one he used to feel before the homeless boy mugging incident, a long title, but he had no idea what else to call it. Either way, he was happy, but more like a friend he really liked spending time with him happy, not "the guy i've crushed on since i was ten is holding my hand! EEEEEK" feeling he would have got. He wasn't a fan of that feeling fading, but maybe it was for the best? Whatever, Glen had agreed to hang out with him, and thats all he could ask for!
Glen meanwhile was struggling through the crowds, glad Go was still letting him hold on to his hand, otherwise he'd be lost. And it wasn't lost on him Go didn't seem that lovestruck like usual, maybe he had moved on? Meh, it didn't matter right now, what mattered was finding something to eat, and maybe a strawberry daquiri with a sugar rim, he had a terrible urge for that today.
They'd occasionally find someone George knew, or someone Glen knew, and the party around them continued pretty nicely, until Glen slipped off with someone, drunk and half blind worrying Go.
George began to backtrack, looking eeverywhere and asking around, but as time had worn on most other teens had left, leaving the partying young adults and older crowd. George stumbled around, panicked now because he had let Glen go, he let the guy who was his best friend go and get drunk or hurt or lost, or so much worse, George didn't want to think about it. He kept looking though, through alleys and buildings through the throng of the heavy crowd, until he spotted a very familiar face, one edged closer to him by the dancing bodies. "It's you!" He exclaimed to the silent young man, the homeless one he had helped out just a few days ago. In a moment of sheer stupidity, he hugged him, and dragged him from out of the crowd. "I'm so glad your okay! That your not dead or whatever like my friend Glen!...glen." Thinking of him, his mood plumetted again. "I...I lost him. I LOST MY BEST FRIEND AND HES PROBABLY DEEEEEEEAD!" He finally wailed, crying in that way only young children, or truly panicked teens who have realized they aren't immortal, can.
The brunette looked at him, terrified, especially when the pink haired guy hugged him, and said he was worried about him, but frowned when he started to cry. he wished he could ask what the missing friend looked like, but was hesitant to ask for his phone though he himself was in a hurry, instead, he tapped Georges arm, gesturing to wait one second, to which the other boy nodded, and the brunette set to work, snatching one of those free pens from those insurance ad booths that always mysteriously set up during events, and some paper nearby on the ground. He wrote 'what does your friend look like?', handing it to George, who looked back and forth to it confused. "Um, blond and short, has a cool a** scar on his--hey!" the brunette had grabbed his hand, for he'd seen that guy alright, about to be caught in something really bad, which had sent him stumbling for help, thank goodness he'd found that guys friend!
George wondered where the other was taking him, knowing on some level he was helping him, stopping when the other did to.....a scene.
Oh, they'd found Glen alright, with three guys bloody, beaten to a pulp surrounding him. He looked up, a wild look in his eye until he saw who it was, only to rush into his arms, shaking. "I bea em up for they go' me" he cried into George's chest. "Don tell Andy, he'll cry" He added before passing out to the now stunned and amazed boys.
The brunette snapped out of it first, hastily writing on his paper. "Cops soon, we gotta go!" As George himself finally registered that yes, there were indeed lights, and a small crowd forming outside of the mouth of the alley. He quickly threw Glen over his shoulder, and damn that hurt! He was a weak, soft child dammit, and grabbed the other boys hand. Or at least, he tried to, only to grab air.Hm? Weird, that kid was fast. No matter, he had escaped and now it was his and his potato sack of a friends turn. He ran out of the opposite side of the alley, ran and ran until he reached Glen's little house , fumbling for the spare key until he got them inside, he didnt bother to do more than get their shoes off before he deposited Glen, and then himself, onto the bed. He held the other, older young man close, knowing even unconscious he may want a familiar comfort, and looked up at his friends dark ceiling.
Twice now he met that boy, and both times it was very serious, dangerous circumstances, and he really hoped to meet him again, under less stressful conditions.
