new year’s eve.
@eusjason
holidays were a rough time of year for rory, always had been. his mother had loved christmas and new year’s and all things wintery and rory had always just enjoyed being around her when she was celebrating: decorating the tree, and writing his letter to santa before midnight mass and going to bed excited and unable to sleep when they got back. but once his mother passed, so did all the holiday spirit he had. at a certain point of being alone for so long, he had given up on decorating or making a fuss over it at all. the only thing new year’s was good for now was making being drunk the next morning not only socially acceptable, but encouraged.
the new year’s party wasn’t his type of scene. he much preferred to be alone, not having to deal with the crowds of people angling themselves to be next to someone for their new year’s kiss or listening to the boom of the fireworks as they exploded in the air. at most, he’d made a brief appearance up on the roof to steal a bottle of alcohol, one that he hadn’t glanced at the label of, before shadow traveling onto a roof a few blocks away. it’s not ideal, but he can’t stand the idea of sitting alone in the room while everyone is out celebrating.
it’s meant to be a solo night, one where he watches the sky and picks out constellations that are obscured by fireworks but after a second, he grabs his phone and opens up the text thread at the very top. jg. i’m on a roof a few blocks away. you should join me. i don’t know the address so don’t ask.”