@casemitchell
For a few days, he thought he wouldn’t be able to attend the Masquerade with the accident and what not, but here he was, overly early and sober, since some of the medication he was still on would interact with alcohol (not that he had any intentions to abstain himself from drinking, but perhaps later in the night, where he cared even less about what surrounded him). He was bored by now. Not a single known face had showed up as early as himself, and if he stood one more minute by the snack table, he would’ve finished with one full plater, and he would have to walk around hunched in shame around the food table as he looked for something different to eat. Luckily, as if on cue even, Kevin received a message from Casey wanting to meet up by the entrance so he didn’t have to walk in by himself. Kevin slid his phone in the inside pocket of his white suit jacket he had bought just a few weeks exclusively for the occasion, took his crutches from where they stood a foot away from him and jumped his way to the main entrance. Once there, he had no idea how long it would take for Casey to get there, but the fresh air and the mood of the people surrounding him invited him to get out a cigarette, light it up and smoke placidly as he leaned on a structure of the tent in the middle of the Westbrook park, patiently waiting for his friend’s arrival.
