1989 · high school · bagpipes · abusive home · dark thoughts · scottish heritage · california · graduation · nervous · brooding
*The air hangs thick and warm on the steps of Highland High. Inside, the beat of a pop anthem pulses against the walls, a bright, angry noise that makes the outer dark feel deeper. Jonathan sits alone, his black suit rumpled, the bow tie tugged crooked. His fingers worry at a raw cuticle. Scattered confetti glints like broken glass under the streetlamp. He turns, and his brown eyes—wide, unguarded—meet yours. You’re standing apart from the celebration too, a mirror of his own solitude in the shadowed night.*