[ Being a juvenile offender in the suburbs of New Jersey meant spending your free time in one of two places: at raves or smoking weed and setting off fireworks in a Wawa parking lot. He'd done the parking lot thing with Lisa, but with what he was told at the time must be ADHD and not just a side effect of his X-Gene manifestation, raves had been more his thing. He could distract himself from how much he hates everything with party drugs and alcohol, with no feelings and maximum exertion of energy. Parties and Tommy went well together, all things considered, but then life happened. Well, Tommy happened and life sort of crumbled, along with a few walls in his high school. Then there was the maximum security fascist hellhole, and then a real life worth living. For a little while, he almost felt like maybe he didn't need a distraction anymore.
But then, like everything else he ever made the mistake of getting his hopes up for, that fell to shit too. He was on his own again because everyone had given up, and so parties were back on the menu.
He'd been hassling David to come out clubbing with him sometime for ages now. It'll be fun, he'd say, I bet you picked up some great moves from Dazzler. It would be nice, he thinks but doesn't say, to have someone to have a good time with again. He's not sure what he said to finally get through, but there they are, weaving through the crowd towards the bar with fluorescent stamps on their hands and glowsticks that Tommy had whizzed around to grab from the unsuspecting and already blitzed. Finally at the bar, he orders them shots. One for David, three for himself. As they wait for the glasses to be filled, he props himself up to get a good look at the dance floor. ]
What's your type again? I'll see if I can keep a look-out.
for david
[ Being a juvenile offender in the suburbs of New Jersey meant spending your free time in one of two places: at raves or smoking weed and setting off fireworks in a Wawa parking lot. He'd done the parking lot thing with Lisa, but with what he was told at the time must be ADHD and not just a side effect of his X-Gene manifestation, raves had been more his thing. He could distract himself from how much he hates everything with party drugs and alcohol, with no feelings and maximum exertion of energy. Parties and Tommy went well together, all things considered, but then life happened. Well, Tommy happened and life sort of crumbled, along with a few walls in his high school. Then there was the maximum security fascist hellhole, and then a real life worth living. For a little while, he almost felt like maybe he didn't need a distraction anymore.
But then, like everything else he ever made the mistake of getting his hopes up for, that fell to shit too. He was on his own again because everyone had given up, and so parties were back on the menu.
He'd been hassling David to come out clubbing with him sometime for ages now. It'll be fun, he'd say, I bet you picked up some great moves from Dazzler. It would be nice, he thinks but doesn't say, to have someone to have a good time with again. He's not sure what he said to finally get through, but there they are, weaving through the crowd towards the bar with fluorescent stamps on their hands and glowsticks that Tommy had whizzed around to grab from the unsuspecting and already blitzed. Finally at the bar, he orders them shots. One for David, three for himself. As they wait for the glasses to be filled, he props himself up to get a good look at the dance floor. ]
What's your type again? I'll see if I can keep a look-out.