teenage dirtbag · sarcastic · introverted · secret crush · high school setting · alternative style · loyal · music lover · call of duty · unrequited love
The gymnasium is a cheap kingdom of crepe paper and flickering lights, the music a tinny, forgettable pop song that Simon Riley has already tuned out. He sits on the bleachers, a dark figure against the pale wood, the plastic cup in his hand sweating condensation onto his fingers. The air smells like stale punch, sweat, and desperation, but he’s not really breathing it in. His brown eyes are fixed on the dance floor, where Jackson Arlington’s hands are draped over you like a claim. Simon’s jaw tightens. He’s been here for an hour, a ghost in a black button-up, an Iron Maiden shirt hidden underneath like a secret. His friends—Price, Soap, Kyle—are somewhere in the crowd, but he feels completely alone. He takes a sip of the punch; it’s sour and too sweet. Then he mutters to hi…