Survival Of The Fittest

((Niall Harris continued from Wined and Dined))

Jake was a decent kid, and a decent linebacker, when Coach let him play, but it was painfully clear how desperate he was to impress the upperclassmen on the team, what with all the compliments, and the eager invitations to this party, extended it seemed to the whole of Red Rock’s senior year. But all in all, it was a decent party, too. Their sixteen-year-old host was no Stella, but the drink selection was more than adequate, the venue- a veritable mansion in the heart of Silver Springs, which the boy’s parents had foolishly vacated for the weekend- was nothing short of luxurious, and enough of Niall’s fellow seniors had attended to avoid him having to spend more than the minimum possible time socialising with sophomores.

The playlist, however, left a lot to be desired.

“Gotta gotta be down, because I want it all…”

Regrettably, The Killers were hometown heroes and, for the simple sin of having been born in Sin City, Niall had been exposed to even more of their already overplayed catalogue than he otherwise might have been. It could have been worse, he supposed. Jake’s playlist had yet to draw from Imagine Dragons’ discography, another local band, one which Niall was convinced had been put on the planet by some cruel god to test his faith in the very concepts of art and poetry.

"Now they're goin' to bed, and my stomach is sick"

Niall scowled and took another swig of his drink. Bourbon whiskey, ginger ale.

“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now, let me goooooooo…”

“…I hate this song” Niall grumbled, unconcerned as to whom such an unreasonably controversial opinion might upset.

((Wade Colter continued from Watching NASCAR for the pile ups))

Wade didn't know Jake whatsoever. His brother, Ned, knew Jake. Wade didn't really know why that netted him an invite but, hey, senior year means he won't be getting many more chances for high school parties. Not unless he wanted to go to jail, anyway. Fortunately, he wasn't in prison, he was in Silver Springs wandering around one of the stupid big houses and hey, someone he vaguely recognized.

"...I hate this song"

Who wasn't having a good time, apparently.

"It's a little overplayed." Wade said, coming in from the side. "Also, Hi I'm Wade."

Niall had not expected a response, muttered as his opinions had been into a swirling sea of inebriated adolescent noise, cast out like a hook without a line to be sucked under and swallowed by the depths. But a response came, swung in from the side, words blunt, voice deep, and it cut through the party’s humming static ambience like an axe through tangled wires. Niall turned towards it, placed down his drink and offered a handshake.

“Niall. I think I’ve seen you around.”

Wade cut what was politely referred to as a distinctive silhouette, one that could often be seen cast against the walls of Red Rock’s weight room. Niall admired his workout routine, even if it probably came at the cost of some greater difficulty fitting through narrow doorways. As for Wade’s less physical pursuits, Niall seemed to recall he had an interest in the literary, which warranted a greater share still of Niall’s respect. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly Wade liked to read, but since a conversation between them now seemed inevitable, the opportunity for elaboration would likely emerge.

First, though, an even more important aspect of Wade’s personality had to be established. Niall picked up his glass and knocked back the last swig in a single, graceful flick of his right arm.

“What are you drinking, Wade?”

Niall, right. Wade had seen him around too. Brains and brawn was the impression he got of Niall. One of those guys who can do whatever he wants because he’s capable instead of coddled. Of course, that was the impression of someone who hadn’t said two words to the guy, so what did Wade know? The guy seemed cool and would remain so for as long he didn’t say dumb shit.

He watched him as Niall swigged the glass. The grace of the motion didn’t register with Wade. He was more focused on the question.

“Nothing much,” he said. “ I drove my brother here, so it’s a no-go.”

Wade gestured to Niall’s glass.

“What are you drinking?”