Larkin had been underwhelmed with the whole stifling nature of the first few weeks of reform school that he’d been sent to under his grandparents’ surveillance ever since his father had split from the picture and his mother has essentially gone ‘crazy’. It had been a colorful time for the youth, with his connections to some of the rather seedy and unknown people in the big city that he’d been forced to call home. But, it wasn’t a home… not what he envisioned a home was, that is. A home had space for living. He remembered his grandparents’ apartment was small so he was used to the “living” quarters that he was given to sleep and unfurl his long limbs in. It was still a disappointment though. And, only after two weeks in, Larkin had decided that he was going to start trying to sneak out during the nights when security was less apparent. It had been easier than expected, but Larkin knew how to move like a shadow and used it to his advantage. Slipping his silhouette through the night, he found himself drawn back to the milky lights of city. Once he heard word of a nearby party, he decided to make an appearance and strolled through the door in his dark street clothes. The music was loud and the air reeked of weed, but it was familiar and it was free. He made his way over to the arrangement of bottles of various liquors and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone he knew as his ex-boyfriend. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He said, ducking in front of someone. “Pretend that you’re talking to me, okay? I just saw my ex over there,” He winced lightly. “But, I know he won’t approach me unless I’m alone. I really don’t want to deal with his pompous bullshit tonight,” Larkin explained. “—I’m not above begging?” He chuckled dimly because he actually was above begging, but he wouldn’t let the stranger in front of him know that.
To say the least, it had been a long week. From the back to back shifts, taking care of his sisters, meeting his probation officer, and the random behavior checks, Angel was drained by the time Friday rolled around. It didn’t bother him as much as it did before, but he would have been saying the complete opposite a year ago. At this point, it was merely a schedule of sorts. Wake up, do what he was ( legally ) required to do, and sleep. Rinse and repeat. And as long as he didn’t screw it up, he would be fine. That being said, the literal last place he should have been was a house party. He can’t tell you why he’s there, because his probation agreements strictly prohibited him from smoking, drinking, and essentially everything that happened at parties that resulted in inebriation. And for the moment, he was following that rule; his tall, slender figure leaning against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets firmly, almost as if he were trying to prevent them from picking anything up. His eyes scanned across the room, watching as everyone enjoyed themselves. It was as if he were living vicariously through them. And even if he wasn’t aware of it, he definitely was. But this only lasted all of fifteen minutes before he a mumbled a ‘screw this’ and prepared himself to leave –– until another male approached him. He only listened with furrowed brows as the other rattled off his reasons. “I won’t really have to pretend if you think about it,” Angel mused with a grin. “We are talking.” Angel raised his head to look around at his fellow party-goers to see if someone was looking in their direction, only to give up a second later because, well, he didn’t know who or where to look for thanks to the abundance of people. “No, please, don’t beg, it’s fine. I’ll cover for you.” He shook his head as he spoke, almost laughing from the stranger’s words. “I don’t know, it might just be me, but seeing an ex warrants a reason to leave. They ruin the whole mood as soon as it starts.”
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