TIME FRAME A serene evening after a drudging day of classes.
LOCATION Down the sidewalks of the city, treading over cool pavement.
SYNOPSIS Wes thinks more about reconnecting with his pals, thinking about how stout his plans are and if it's okay to deviate.
His feet walk in calculated, mathematical lines down the pavement; Wes takes order to another level. He still hasn't forgone his old ways.
And, yet, Chicago is entirely different than Westerville, though Wes manages to stay firm to his grassroots. A gavel rests in his backpack, an allegiant constant he can grasp for order. The days of being a Warbler Head Council leader may have been over, but they have spawn some faithful memories as of late. Every face that passes by him is merely a reflection of nostalgia; he sees his friends in every slate and canvas that passes him, qualities that he wouldn't dare to release a tight, mental grasp.
As orderly as he is, it's a curse. It's been two years, and Wes--while having assimilated marvelously to his new life--can only swell emerging thoughts of the past. It perplexes it. It has to be because of that blog, he thinks. His hands are deep rooted in his pockets as his conscience is to his mind, just wondering how Blaine, Kurt, and even some new acquaintances are doing. Perhaps I'll stop by in town.
It's a foolish thought. For someone as structural as an intricacy, planning this event would throw off his schedule--at least a few weeks in advance. Besides, his reasons for departure wouldn't be logical: to visit family or, a lower trough, friends?
Maybe he has lived his life an illusion: Wes can only contemplate, as if his mind is subject to constant rumination. To break something so formed and composed, the Asian knows that this is probably temporary. For someone so philosophical--so thinking--it's unheard of. But he's in discord.
Somehow, he knows he's slipping, but the sidewalk has it all paved for him. Wes knows what to do; stay tangent and en route. But, his heart races with electrifying pulsation to be daring. For once, he should deviate: maybe it's in his composure.
