Chapter Text
Of course, it had been Ryan’s idea—a way to drag his younger brother out of his perpetual shell, that safe cocoon Adam so enjoyed staying in. Ryan wanted him to interact with the outside world, meet girls his age, maybe even make a friend who wasn’t on the other side of a computer screen. Naturally, Adam wasn’t on board with the idea. The thought of being at a noisy party, surrounded by sweaty, drunk, or high teenagers, only made his anxiety spike. His pulse quickened, and what little color his already pale cheeks had drained away completely.
He remembers throwing out a handful of excuses, each more desperate and implausible than the last. Ryan had ignored them, countering with the usual encouragements to push him out of his comfort zone. Adam knew those words too well; he could have refuted every single one of them if he had been given the chance. But he wasn’t, and before he knew it, he was in Ryan’s car, his brother driving him to some unknown place.
Adam took a deep breath, his eyes darting nervously between the windshield and the window as the seconds ticked by. His muscles ached from how tense he was. He probably looked like a caged animal… because that’s exactly how he felt.
“Hey,” Ryan called, snapping him out of his thoughts. His brother’s hand was raised, as if he had been about to nudge Adam’s shoulder. “We’re here.” Adam nodded stiffly, his robotic movements betraying his anxiety. Ryan must have noticed, because he added, “We’ll only stay inside for an hour—no more, I promise.”
Adam nodded again. Holding his breath for a moment, he forced himself to step out of the car’s safety. Outside, the night breeze hit his face, and the pounding music from the house instantly overwhelmed him. That’s when he realized just how bad he must look. He glanced at his reflection in the car window—a lanky, pale teenager who looked completely out of place.
Ryan, thankfully, didn’t try to pat his shoulder again, and Adam appreciated that.
He followed his brother into the house, hunched over like a shadow trailing behind him. His eyes darted to the people they passed, who greeted Ryan warmly but gave Adam strange, questioning looks.
It made sense. He stood out, a bruised blemish next to the confident and popular Ryan Lanza. For a fleeting moment, Adam wondered if this was all a cruel joke, a twisted way for Ryan to humiliate him.
When a group of girls approached Ryan, Adam seized the opportunity to slip away. His steps carried him to the furthest corner of the house, where he stood frozen, barely processing the fact that he was at a party at all. The music thudded against the walls, reverberating through his body, and he wished desperately to cover his ears and disappear.
His nails dug into the palms of his hands, and his teeth gnawed at his lip. He had no idea what to do. The thought of leaving was tempting, but not practical—he didn’t know this neighborhood and didn’t trust himself to even ask for directions.
He realized, much to his dismay, that he was trapped.
The music kept playing, and the minutes blurred together with each passing song. Adam felt as if he were losing his grip on reality. The faces of the people around him dissolved into shapeless, indistinct blobs. Was this just his mind playing tricks on him? Or was it the hunger he’d ignored catching up to him? Either way, he figured stepping outside for some fresh air was his best option.
But moving meant navigating through a crowd of sweaty strangers, and the thought made his stomach churn. It wasn’t appealing, but the idea of collapsing in the middle of this party was worse.
He didn’t even breathe as he forced himself to make a decision. He acted on instinct, his feet carrying him out the door without a second thought. He bumped into a few people along the way, enough to make him feel dirty and in desperate need of a shower.
The cool night air greeted him again, but the porch was too crowded. Adam knew he had to go further if he wanted any real peace.
He walked aimlessly, not caring if he got lost. That would be Ryan’s problem. The only thing on Adam’s mind was the need to be away, to breathe, to be alone.
Once the music had faded enough to be tolerable, Adam finally took a few deep breaths. He pressed his hands to his head, trying to make sense of everything. The last thing he wanted was to break down in the middle of the street.
In his haze, he moved toward a tree by the sidewalk. He didn’t notice the person leaning against it until he heard a disgruntled noise.
Adam didn’t apologize—he was too focused on catching his breath. He could feel the stranger’s eyes on him, not with concern but with detached annoyance, as if the interruption were more irritating than alarming.
When Adam’s breathing steadied, he finally looked up. His blue eyes met those of the stranger—a blond boy, shorter than him, leaning casually against the tree. His hair was cut in an odd style, but Adam didn’t feel like he was in any position to judge.
“You okay?” the boy asked. His tone was devoid of genuine concern, as though the question were more out of obligation than empathy.
Adam took a few moments to process the question, his mind still a mess.
“W-what?”
“I said, are you okay?” the boy repeated, his voice tinged with impatience. He clearly wanted this interaction over with.
“I’m fine,” Adam replied, trying to sound curt, though his voice came out shaky. He probably looked pitiful, like a wounded animal left in the middle of the road.
“Did you get lost or something?” the boy asked, though his tone suggested he didn’t actually care about the answer.
Adam hesitated, debating whether or not to respond. He could just walk away and pretend this encounter never happened. But his options were limited—wandering aimlessly or returning to the party didn’t appeal to him either.
“No,” he muttered finally. The conversation felt awkward, but Adam had never been good at talking to people.
“First time at a party?”
Adam’s eyes widened slightly, surprised at how quickly the boy had read him. He glanced at him, trying to detect any hint of mockery, but found only detached curiosity.
“Something like that,” Adam admitted, his voice barely audible.
The blond shrugged, as if that were all he needed to hear.
“Yeah, you look like it. Not that it’s my thing either,” he added.
Adam blinked. “You were in there?”
“Yeah.”
Adam nodded, then dared to ask, “So… why are you out here?”
The words tumbled out before he could stop them. It surprised him—he usually avoided engaging with anyone. But something about this boy’s disinterest made it easier to talk.
“No drugs,” the boy said simply, “and loud music, too many people, zero personal space. Sounds like a dream, right?”
Adam frowned at the mention of drugs but didn’t comment. The rest, though, made him smile—just barely.
The boy noticed and relaxed slightly, the tension in his expression easing.
“I’m Dylann, by the way,” he offered after a moment.
Adam hesitated before replying, “Adam.”
Dylann nodded in acknowledgment, as if that was all there was to say.
Minutes passed in silence. Adam could feel Dylann’s occasional glances but didn’t mind. It was strange to have someone look at him without pity or disgust.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Dylann asked eventually.
Adam frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to hang out on a street at night.”
Despite the grin that accompanied the statement, Dylann didn’t sound mocking—just observant.
Adam hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t know this neighborhood, and I don’t want to go back there.”
Dylann nodded again and pushed off the tree. “Well, if it helps, I don’t plan on going back either. I live close by—just a few minutes’ walk. You could come with me.”
Adam’s blue eyes narrowed slightly, his uncertainty evident. Dylann didn’t seem dangerous—strange, maybe, but not a threat. And there was something oddly calming about him. Still, trusting a stranger felt like a risk.
Ryan was still at the party.
Dylann raised his hands in mock surrender, taking another step forward. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”
Adam toyed with the sleeves of his gray hoodie, feeling ridiculous for overthinking the invitation.
“It’s not that… I want to go,” he admitted softly, just loud enough for Dylann to hear.
Dylann’s lips curved into a faint smile. Without another word, he turned and started walking. He didn’t look back, trusting Adam to follow.
Adam hesitated, casting one last glance toward the party—not out of longing, but out of doubt. Was this a mistake?
He sighed.
It couldn’t be that bad.