Survival Of The Fittest

Charlie usually preffered to repress his lightheadedness whenever he drank, but this time he allowed it to flow pleasantly to his face and make itself visible.

He wasn't actually bullied too much, besides some grim comments that were sometimes thrown at him because of debate, but that was because he did make an effort to be pleasant. He didn't like to keep long conversations which made him uncomfortable, but he had earned some neutrality between everyone. At first it hadn't been like that.

One really has to purt some effort whenever someone shows a slight interest to be nice..promote it. He disliked to be false or to exagerate, so he usually forced his personality in, despite all the amiability.

"Hello, Evans", he said without smiling, making a small gesture with the beer he was holding. It was unavoidable to be a bit irritated by the impression Evan was giving, however. Nonetheless he allowed his eyes to seem groggy.

"We're fine" added Cecilia eyeing him curiously. "We're actually enjoying this, you know...you should know that" She was still a bit apalled that some of their classmates seemed to forget that they attended some of the parties and that they also liked to drink.

"Yeah, I see you're enjoying... no sarcasm or witisism intended, by the way" he corrected, as he used to. He had gotten that tendency from Cecilia. Have you seen Alfred?"
-----

Vicente made a gesture of concern. Not at Ric's condition, which he actually found impressive but natural, but more at the idea that had settled on his mind.

"Damn it must be hard to have to avoid beauty. I don't know if I should envy you or not. I guess that I would, sadly, choose to see them." he had been staring at Ric's eyes all the while until he tilted his head downwards. "Wouldn't be able to avoid them." He added convincingly.

"Do you like them? he asked bruskly. "Though... I know ...for sure that it must be hard to think about them, no matter what you answer." He started to move slowly towards the party again.

Needless to say, Tyrese Paramore was more than a little thankful for the help that his classmate offered. The firepit seemed to be a lot more work than he'd first anticipated, so any help was greatly appreciated. He couldn't help but be a bit amazed by the sheer amount of people who had already shown up to the party. This party would be the first of many during their senior year of school, but it was also the first of the last memories of his high school career. For that reason, he was determined to enjoy it. Tyrese was a very laid-back sort of person. He liked to take the good things along with the bad. In the end, they were all part of what made him "T". He'd already managed to accomplish things many people could never dream of. Hell, he'd been shot in the face and lived to tell the tale. That in and of itself was quite an accomplishment.

He'd been revered as a "hero" ever since then, but he definitely didn't think of himself as such. Any person would've done the same thing if put in that sort of situation, or so he hoped. T hadn't done anything spectacular. He hadn't done anything amazing. All he'd done was stand up for a girl who, at the time, wasn't able to stand up for herself. Ever since he was young, his mother had been an avid believer in protecting the weak, and in that moment, T had seen his chance, and he had taken it. He had faced the repercussions head on, and he had never, not once, looked back, nor had he ever regretted the actions he took that night.

But, he was drowning in his own thoughts. T escaped from his reverie after a moment and his attention turned back to the present. Already, many of the students from Southridge High School had begun to show up at the party, and things already seemed to be swinging. The good, the bad, and the ugly all seemed to have shown up, from Queen of the Cheerleading Realm Kara Holmes to resident rich kid Evan Angler to juvenile delinquent Melina Frost to the jocks' favorite punching bag Eduardo Trinidad-Villa and everyone in between.

~~~

Andrea had known that the party was going to be a big one. That was the intention, after all. The entirety of the senior class was supposed to show up, and although some of them definitely wouldn't, she couldn't help but be surprised at the large turnout they had already gotten. She meandered through the crowd that was slowly starting to formulate, nodding hello and waving hi to the various people that were starting to accumulate on the beach's white sands. Keiji Tanaka, who seemed to be accompanied by Bobby Jacks, greeted her, and she returned their salutations and thanked them for coming to the party. She couldn't stay and talk, as everyone seemed to be demanding her attention

So it goes...

She couldn't help but think that the two were quite the little odd couple as she walked off. Keiji was a very friendly person by nature, he seemed to talk to everyone. Bobby, on the other hand, didn't seem to have any friends at all. Maybe that was why Keiji seemed to have encouraged him to come to the bonfire in the first place. After all, after this year, the likelihood that he'd see anyone in his class again decreased drastically. Now was his last chance to form bonds before it was all over.

She didn't have much time to ponder on it before Southridge's resident definition of perfection, Miss Serenity Halos, was flailing her arms around in the air to greet her. Andrea waved back, shooting the cheerleader an award-winning smile. Serenity was a nice girl in most respects, but Andrea couldn't help but think that perhaps she was missing a little piece of something upstairs... it wasn't a bad thing, necessarily, because it didn't detract from her personality any, but the thought ran through Andrea's mind as Serenity saw Kara and Gabe and immediately flocked to them like an ADHD kid to a shiny light moving across the wall.

The unmistakable sound of a palm connecting with someone's cheek echoed out from nearby, and Andrea frowned slightly. She was about to chalk it up to some random guy having already had a bit too much to drink and trying to feel up on one of her classmates. When she saw who the dealer of the slap was, though, things made a little more sense. It was Melina Frost. That was almost self-explanatory. She'd succeeded in creating quite the scene, it seemed. She didn't have much time to think over it, or even to care. Her attention was immediately caught by Evan Angler, giving her a congratulatory pat on the back for the party she'd organized.

Being congratulated for her achievements made Andrea beam. It always did.

She was suddenly greeted by an arm draped around her shoulder. Andrea's gaze rose up to see who it was that could be so forward. One look at the face behind the arm said it all. Paul Smith. Everyone knew Paul. He was a senior last year. And the year before. And the year before. Most of all, Paul was a legend in a couple of ways around Southridge High School. It seemed like he'd screwed just about every girl that attended the school, and most of the town, for that matter. He was the one who inevitably pulled the biggest pranks in the school, and he also had the title for "longest time spent in high school".

"Well, Mr. Smith, what a pleasant surprise," she retorted playfully, "I see you'll be joining in all the senior festivities this year too. You just can't get enough of them, can you?"

~~~

The party seemed to be getting into the swing of things now. At least, that's how it seemed from Michael Hardy's perspective as he wheeled his red Chevy Silverado into the nearest available parking space. It seemed like everybody was here. He turned to the dark-headed individual in the passenger's seat and gave her a toothy grin. Lauren Van Asche attempted to return the smile, but it was half-hearted at best. Despite her best efforts, it was painfully obvious, as well.

"What's wrong?" Michael inquired.

"Nothing," she retorted quickly, "I'm just not really into these things."

"Oh," he stated flatly, "We don't have to stay. We can go do something else, I guess."

Although he suggested the idea, the thought of it disappointed him. It wasn't that he wouldn't mind spending a little more alone time with his girlfriend, but still, he wouldn't get to go to too many of these... unless he was like Paul Smith and flunked senior year five times just for the parties or something.

"No, no, no," Lauren shot back, "It's fine. We're here, we're going, c'mon."

She didn't even wait on him to respond. This really wasn't her thing at all. She'd so much rather be on the couch watching a movie or something. She supposed that in that aspect, she was a bit of a homebody. Still, Michael wanted to be here and she knew it. For that reason, she'd make an attempt at smiling and trying to bear it. She headed down from their parking spot toward the beach, and it only took Michael a moment to catch up with her. His hand slid around her waist momentarily, but she pulled away a bit once they reached the shoreline. A few random students said hello to Michael and simply nodded at Lauren, and already, she could feel herself falling into an uncomfortable place.

Michael seemed too caught up in the reunion with his friends to pay much attention, although he didn't seem to let her stray more than a few feet from her at any given time. She couldn't help but feel like people were staring at them. Most girls would've loved to be arm candy to Michael Hardy, but Lauren... Lauren didn't like all the attention, not in the slightest.

"You want something to drink?" he inquired lightly, throwing Lauren from her thoughts.

"No... I'm fine," she answered quietly.

"Alright, be back in a second then," he grinned.

~~~

The busted up 1987 Honda Accord that belonged to one, Lance Barrett, rolled into the parking area and halted with a screech. The bass continued to thump for a moment before Lance killed the motor. The stereo sounded damn good, and he was proud of that fact. Hell, he'd paid more for that stereo than he had for the whole car. He smelled distinctly of pot, as did his passenger, Heather Tilmitt (currently distinctly non-pregnant). That was probably because they'd smoked it in the car, driving down the highway.

Probably not the best of ideas, in retrospect.

"Lance, let's goooo!" Heather called impatiently, bounding out of the car and stripping down to her bikini top (which was actually about a size too small). She somehow managed to leave the Daisy Duke looking shorts that seemed to have been ironed onto her butt on, though as short as they were, it didn't matter anyway.

"I'm comin'," he responded, exiting the car but leaning back in momentarily to fish something out of the console. Heather didn't see what he got, nor did she care, and he took deliberate care to conceal whatever he'd extracted in the back of his jeans pocket. The little pill bottle that he'd grabbed was his key to making a few bucks at this little shindig, and he knew that all too well.

He didn't have any booze, but that didn't seem to matter. All the rich kids had their beer, and they were all messed up enough at this point to be more than willing to share. He figured he'd just mooch. He had much better stuff than alcohol to exchange anyway. He'd planned on walking down with Heather, but it didn't work out that way. She'd already taken off, presumably to find her little clique of friends. Lance meandered into the party, nodding hello to a few acquaintances and taking note of the people that were there. He passed Kara and Gabe, seemingly bent on heading away from the crowd, and gave Kara a sidelong glance before heading off into the crowd.

Melissa thought it best to watch the crowd from a distance for awhile, her eyes scanning for others she might know. But for the most part, as she brought the cup to her lips again and again, she didn't recognize many. It wasn't that she was extremely shy, persay. Melissa just didn't necessarily go out of her comfort circle enough to get more names and numbers to call.

Seemed to her she spent more time trying to keep the ones she already had nowadays, between her time with her boyfriend and work. He'd gotten into the mormon religion, a choice she supported, but she had a personal opinion that any religion on earth had a shitty tolerance ability, and in fact made it principal to their cause. Moral segregation wasn't her thing.

Taking one more glance across the sands, she noticed Lauren and Michael. A smile forming on her face from the memory of the last time they hung out during the summer, at the fair, she decided to get their attention. Or, as she saw Michael split for a second, Lauren's.

Making her way through the crowd with the drink in her hand, she tugged lightly on Lauren's arm and waved lightly with a couple fingers.

"Didn't think you'd show to this," she grinned.

Courtney had to admit, though Kara had up and left her, her friend Serenity was a nice replacement.

"Hi," she said, holding her beer out infront of her like it was smelly garbage. "Want this? I'm not much of a beer drinker."

Everyone was crowding on the beach now. People were either drinking or in the water, or even both. She was on the fence of being intimidated and wanting to join in.

------------------------------------------------

Kara didn't really like the grab for the ass her boyfriend was so accostumed to doing, though it wasn't one of those things she cared enough about to talk about. He offered her a mixed drink, even still with a beer in her hands.

"I'll finish this first." She said quickly chugging the last couple slips, before going straight for the mixed drink Gabe had made for her. Kara always enjoyed outings better when she was tipsy near drunk. From her point of view everyone seemed happier and she could do whatever she wanted without having to feel guilty later for it.

Now polishing off her screwdriver, it was time to address Gabe's comment about going somewhere more 'private'. If he had driven his car here, she would have assumed it ment his back seat as usual. She didn't see it when her and Courtney arrived, so this left her wondering if she should go or not. Part of her wanted to stay because she knew that some more cute boys where going to show up, but the other part of her was feeling really frisky...

I can always come back...

"Yea hun, let's go.. poor me another drink first."

Paul Smith had to smile a little bit at Andrea, it wasn't that her joke was inherently amusing it was just that he could simply read her confidence, Andrea was coming off of a victory, at the height of mental preparedness and it seems that even the awkward doings of Paul Smith couldn't bring her down. Paul, personally liked it when people where like this the most, as he personally felt some sort of obligation to making the populace at Southridge have something to talk about and now that it didn't fall upon him to make sure that they had something to talk about Paul had a large burden lifted from his shoulder and thus could be himself a bit more tonight.

"Ah, the President has jokes now?", Paul said indignantly (although faking it), "Well...you just give me five or so minutes or about 3/5ths of Jack and I will either think of a comeback or be out of my pants and drunkenly trying to grope someone's breasts...", he heard a group of kids laughing and a girl shrieking in the background.

"Although it appears the water polo team already beat me to that.", he said with another smirk as he took his arm off the presidents shoulder, the grin still plastered upon his face.

"Didn't figure you'd be one to promote the non-stop round of drinking and unprotected fornication that is going to occur at the end of the party, although I guess DARE or Sexy Librarians Against The Goop doesn't say anything about underage drinking, so you're safe, eh?", he smiled at her and then continued staring at the Bonfire.

"I would congratulate you for throwing this party, but y'know...I bet half the student body already did that and y'know I'm not one for repeating what others do.", he looked at a cooler and smirked, "Want me to nick some Jack for the good ol' President? Y'know all the greats loved Jack: Washington, Jackson, Regan, Grant...all familiar with my good friend Jack."

"AY, Homies!" was Troy McCann's rather dorky-gangsta announcement that he had officially entered the bizz-each par-tay. Although it didn't seem like it at first glance, he'd actually put on ultra-low shorts to the party, which revealed only a small fraction of his lower legs. He still had his sneakers on as he walked down the sand toward the bonfire and the nearest brutha in the vicinity. He didn't seem worried about getting (too much) sand in them, and hoped that this particular pair was designed to be leak-free when it came to it.

Said brutha happened to be Tyrese Paramore, for which Troy Mac's walk happened to slow up. It was partially in reverence for T's recently-gained reputation, and partially for lack of words out of his frustration over it. To him, T was both a hero for taking a shot like a true gangsta, but at the same time a disappointment for not building on that event to actually become a true gangsta. Hell, the only person close to being "gangsta" (apart from Troy Mac, in his own mind) was that crazy Frost girl who appeared to be laying the smack down on that Chicano who seemed to have taken his place as class genius...although Eduardo's icicle demeanor somehow got on his nerves enough that Troy Mac somehow thought he deserved that.

Of course, if he couldn't get any respect right now, Troy Mac also looked forward to actually enjoying his first real drink. His parents ("always tryin' to keep a playa down!" his universal quote) didn't let him near the stuff and had constantly lectured him about what alcohol did to people. Then again, recent events and social trends had convinced him otherwise, and that (hopefully) as long as he took his 40s in moderation, he'd be fine...right?

Clive stared up at the stairs for a time, smoking the clove as it if were his life force. Each inhale just as lovely as the exhale. The clamor being made by the kids at the bonfire was getting a little annoying to him, but this was their party after all.

"Well, thank God I'm drunk, otherwise this entire thing would be boring."
He turned over to Eduardo for a moment. He had double vision and saw everything kinda blurry.

"Maybe I shouldn't have had so much."

"Hell..." Eduardo let out a sarcastic chuckle, "that's your problem now, not mine." That didn't mean he was still slightly concerned about Clive. Not so much for what he was doing to himself as to what Clive could do to him. Someone who was both smoking and heavily drinking had to be evaded if not brought to a safe place to relax. Of course, Eduardo's nature dictated that the latter option wouldn't be worth the effort.

Ric glanced across at Vicente and gingerly began to follow him through the crowds of people. He didn't like this, there was too many people around, too close. Ric shuddered and managed to repress a rising feeling to get the hell out of there, screaming at the top of his voice, but he felt a little reassurred by the fact that Vicente was there. Vicente, after all, was his friend, and he was good to talk to.

"Oh I like watching them," Ric assured Vicente with a sigh. "But sometimes they almost catch me, and that's really scary. Once, one of them got me and I couldn't see for two whole days," The actual reason for Ric's temporary loss of sight that one time had been because he had passed out following a fit from his condition. It had been a while ago of course, but Ric felt edgy about it even now. He was really careful when he watched the Flirds now.

***
Sean's face lit up when he saw one of his friends had arrived. No time to worry about moronic Evan Angler, Michael Hardy was in town!
"Hey Mike! Michael! Over here man! It's Lucky!" Most people called Sean Lucky, and what had been a nickname that he had once resented, it was now something of a badge that Sean wore with pride.
Sean had to face it, he was Lucky. Seen as he was Irish, some attributed it to just that. Sean always laughed when people said that.
Sean wasn't lucky because he was Irish, Sean was lucky because whoever had put him down here knew he was something special.

Evan responded to Charlie, though only hearing the "Alfred" part of his question through his drunken ears. "No, I dunno Alfred too well. Wherzat guy anyways.." he said as he began to stumble on his own words. Then a sudden head rush hit him, and forced him to move into a crouching position to stop the world from spinning. "Ooh, that's no good... gotta realize it's all in your head Evan my boy" he thought to himself. But no matter what his brain told his body to do, it wouldn't listen, as he moved himself rather abruptly away from the conversation, stumbling from side to side, trying (unsuccessfully) to avoid being seen. Just as fast as it had come, the nausea was gone, replaced seamlessly with a brief rush of power. Evan stood upright, took in a deep breath, and told himself (loudly) "Ahhh I feel GREAT!". He breathed through his tightly clenched theeth, using them as a filter to draw in fresh, non-alcohol tainted air. Then, while he still had the strength to do so, he rushed over to a log lying near the fire, plopped down, and opened his last beer.

************************

Gabe took Kara by the hand and led her up to where Evan had parked his car. He felt a bit guilty for using someone else's car, but he'd seen Evan very drunk only moments earlier and knew he wouldn't remember it. He pulled on the door handle, but the car was locked. Gabe knew only Evan had the keys. "Dammit" he thought to himself. He would have been perfectly fine not being able to sneak off and make out with his girlfriend, but Gabe was doing it mostly because he felt it was just "something you do at a party". He looked at Kara, puzzled. "Uhh any ideas babe?". Only after he'd said it, he remembered he'd get a snappy remark from her, since he knew she hated it when he didn't have a plan.

((I feel like I'm forgetting someone. Ah well, there's always next post.))

Lauren was relieved to see a friendly face in the form of Melissa Diaz. The girl emerged from the crowd moments after Michael had parted ways with her in search of something to drink, and she gave Melissa a light smile as she commented on Lauren's appearance at the party. Lauren shook her head and laughed slightly at the comment.

"This wasn't my idea," she retorted, "I get to play arm candy all night, I guess. These parties really aren't my thing, I don't even talk to ninety percent of these people."

She didn't. In fact, Michael aside, Melissa was the first person she'd seen here that she actually spoke to on a regular basis. Maybe that's why it was such a relief to see her here. She figured she'd be alone for a while. Michael'd come back eventually, but he'd get sidetracked with some of the goons from the football team or something. It happened a lot. Lauren was used to it by now.

"I don't like feeling like I'm on the cover of a tabloid," she laughed, "Seems like that's all most of these people do... watch your every move and then make a big deal about it the next day. They'll be saying I'm cheating on him with you or something."

It was such a ridiculous thought that she couldn't help but laugh. It wouldn't be the first time that some incredibly stupid rumor had gotten spread around school about her, though, and it really wouldn't surprise her much overall. Lots of people were just that juvenile, or they were determined to break herself and Michael up, or something similar. By now, she'd learned to tune it out. She was just glad she'd run into Melissa. At least now, she had someone to talk to for a moment.

~~~

"Hardy."

Lance Barrett uttered the single word as he walked by Michael, only stopping for a mere second to give the baseballer a sidelong glance before continuing on his way to nowhere in particular. He didn't have to say anything else, Michael already knew what was on Lance's mind. He let out a light sigh.

"I'll catch up with you later," Michael mumbled under his breath, hoping it wasn't audible to anyone else.

He wouldn't want them to know that he associated with someone like Lance Barrett, and he certainly didn't want them to know how the two were acquainted. It wasn't something Michael was particularly proud of, but it was a bad habit he just couldn't seem to kick. It consumed him sometimes, and he had to have his fix or he couldn't think about anything else.

He'd take care of that later though, for now, he just wanted to enjoy himself. His attention was thrown from Lance immediately as Sean O'Cann began yelling out to him. Michael grinned widely when he saw the face of his baseball buddy and began heading in Sean's direction.

"Lucky! What's goin' on, man? Where's the beer?"

~~~

Finally, work on the firepit had finished, and the boys hadn't wasted any more time in lighting it up. Just in time, too, as the last rays of sunlight were quickly disappearing over the horizon. Tyrese let out a low whistle as he rose back to his full height. He was thankful for the help, it had been a lot more work than he'd first anticipated. He gave The Bull a grateful nod and took a moment to catch his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Troy McCann strutting up toward the bonfire. He didn't know Troy all that well, but T thought he was a nice guy, even if he tried a bit too hard to fit into the stereotypical "black guy" image. He gave him a wide, toothy grin as he approached.

"Hey man, wassup?" he asked, still grinning from ear to ear, "Helluva way to kick off senior year, am I right?"

Maybe he just appreciated it more than most. These people weren't in his class, technically. He should've graduated last year, but a gunshot wound to the face sort of prevents you from doing that, especially when you're in the hospital for several months trying to recover from it. Funnily enough though, the girl that he saved was in this class. Maybe that's why the "legend" hadn't quite dissolved yet.

Still, he was glad to be here. He was glad to be alive. He was glad to be able to hang out with his friends, because for a long time, he didn't think he'd ever be able to do it again. T took a seat on one of the large logs they'd pulled up around the bonfire and stared into the flames for just a moment. They danced and waved, catching his eye. His vision tore away just as quickly and scanned once again over the people lurking around him.

Tyrese was smiling as Troy approached. Things were off to a relatively good start tonight, not that he could say that for other people on the beach at the moment. Still, it was only the start of the night, and Troy Mac wasn't about to compromise that quickly. If he could survive this, he could open up some real opportunities for his senior year, and not just for his basketball scholarship. He went to sit beside Troy on the log he'd pulled up...and he had to admit it was a bit awe-inspiring to sit beside the class hero.

"Hell yeah!" Troy replied enthusiastically. "This shit's gonna be bangin...but not as bangin as the senior prom later on, right?" He gave T a laugh and a friendly punch to the shoulder, before leaning back a bit and looking out. "Man, looks like e'erbody's who's anybody gon' be herr."

They had worked pretty much silently on the firepit for several minutes, Darnell personally ignoring most things that weren't on that topic (even Paul Smith's fireworks show, which barely garnered a surprised glance from The Bull) in a way much similar to when he trained in football or wrestling. It had been more work, and harder, than Darnell originally thought, but he and Tyrese had eventually finished. Straightening back up to his full height, surprisingly he wasn't that big, he rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck to get rid of the stiffness. He returned Tyrese's grateful nod with a grin and a thumbs up before he felt someone tap his back. Ignoring Troy, who actually annoyed him with his attempts to fit into the "gangster" stereotype but was otherwise a good kid, as he spoke with Tyrese, he turned around to look at the speaker.

Of course, he would recognize Evelyn's voice anywhere, but it was polite to acknowledge someone talking to you. It turned out he had managed to convince her to come along, after all. He was glad for that; not only because he enjoyed the team captain's company, but because he knew she would burn herself out if she didn't relax once in a while.

"Good," he said in response to her saying that he won and she decided to come, "You need to take the occasional break. That body of yours isn't invincible, it'll break down if it doesn't get any time to recover."

He had wanted to say that when he called Evelyn earlier to try and convince her to show up, but he thought it would've sounded rude. Putting that aside, Darnell knew there were no risks of anything happening to ruin either of their scholarships at the party unless they did something very stupid. Not only did the class president have political connections, but the police were very laid back and wouldn't do anything if the kids didn't majorly break the law (though they probably got startled by the fireworks), they were barely even needed due to the low crime rate in Highland Beach.

One of the best towns anyone could wanna live in. We've got everything. the fullback thought, a smile still on his face as he looked around, laughing a bit at some of the antics of his classmates.

"So, what do you want to do?"

Clive was smoking the cigarette ever so slowly, adding to the fact that Clove cigarettes last long enough already. After a few minutes, it was gone, smoked down to it's end, save for the filter, and then he threw the remains into the watery sand, which was then swallowed whole by the water itself coming in.

"Yeah, well, this whole thing is getting utterly boring... I think I'll head to a club tonight, instead."

Clive tried getting up for a moment, but then couldn't. He then made the motion toward Eduardo that he was going to use him to help get up... unfortunately, even after putting his hand on his shoulder to help get up, Clive fell down once again, only this time found himself falling on top of Eduardo, pretty much, mouth to mouth and in what could constitute the most embarrassing drunken moment in his entire life.

Eduardo seemed fixated on the glow at the tip of Clive's cigarette as it made its way down to the filter, and watched as he threw it away to a similar fate as Eduardo's unlit one. If he were emo, he'd be thinking about all sorts of metaphors for the futility of life, but given that he had nothing else to do at the moment (he had slung his headphones around his neck) he just enjoyed watching that pretty orange light just for the hell of it.

"Fuck, go ahead," he muttered as Clive decided to head to the club, and offered his hand to help Clive up.

Unfortunately, one thing led to another and the next thing he knew, he found himself at the bottom. Where he was made him wish he were at the bottom of the sea with cement shoes though. Because in a freak coincidence, Eduardo had ended up under Clive AND so dangerously close to liplock that he feared that any movement at ALL would get him exposed, and not just metaphorically. It was a feeling that left him both openly shocked AND blushing, but not quite aroused. He was too fearful for that to happen, either...especially when others were nearby.