Otherside

Chapter 8: The party

           After working his ass off the past few days with Wilbur, George was relieved when it was time for the party. He was looking forward to the stiff pen in his hand being replaced with a cold drink so he could truly relax for what felt like the first time in weeks. It had been a long day, and George wanted to have enough energy to last him through the night, so he took a nap about two hours before Quackity said it would start. When he woke up, he put on some of his nicer clothes, a thin black button-up that was undone a few buttons, just enough to show off his collarbone. He paired it with black pants and a silver necklace. George had always had good fashion sense, not that it mattered much. He put on what he was told in order to look presentable. But recently, George felt the desire to dress up for the sake of looking good, rather than just acceptable. He had been told he was handsome before, but it had never mattered much to him. Now, he felt the urge to make himself desirable. He didn't know particularly why this was, but he sprayed some cologne Wilbur had lent him and was sure to brush his teeth twice before leaving.

    Once he was done getting ready, George headed out towards the main deck, which had been transformed in a matter of hours. Pink, blue, and red lights shone brightly and painted the dull wood. Ribbons and streamers cascaded down the pillars and reflected the light even more. Music already boomed off of the stage in his ears. The air smelled thick and heavy, promising a good time. As he walked in, he scoured the room for a familiar face; it looked like he had to be one of the last ones to arrive. George felt a slap on his back and turned to find the man himself, with a drink already in hand.

     "George!" Quackity beamed, "I thought you were gonna sleep in on us" George smiled at him. "No way am I missing this; now, where can I get a good drink?" George asked eagerly. He desperately needed a break, and George didn't know a better way to than this. He remembered sneaking into the kitchen and getting drunk off of his father's collection with Niki when they were rebellious teens; he felt desperate for that kind of freedom again. "Woah, George, I didn't take you as a party animal, but if you are, you're gonna love this." "Finally, something to drink," he thought excitedly. Quackity very obviously walked towards the stage and away from the drink table. "Uhm... this doesn't look like alcohol," He thought, confused. Quackity then grabbed Wilbur and brought him up on stage with him. "What the hell?" Every pair of eyes in the room turned to look at the two of them, and George felt he was missing out on something big. He slapped Wilbur on the arm and cried out to the crowd, "SCATTER!"

    Someone shut the bright lights off, and because of the cloudy pitch-black sky, George couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He heard the screams and pounding off feet, running in every direction. Wilbur loudly counting down from 60 into the microphone. George looked around for any sign of what was going on, but he was lost until he heard Tommy call out. "HIDE ME, TUBBO!" and everything clicked. These were pirates; they didn't know anything about normal parties or party etiquette. And George had just been thrown into the biggest game of Hide and Seek he had ever seen. He froze for a moment before bolting to a supply closet that he had seen off of one of the hallways. It was pretty out of the way, and George prayed no one else had snagged it as he rounded the corner and swung open the door.

     It wasn't large, but it could fit one person if George didn't mind being cramped in a corner for a while. He saw that the door was already cracked and took that as a good sign. George skidded into the closet and jumped in, and shut the door in one fluid motion. In that same motion, he crashed directly into someone. "OW!" The voice whispered sharply. George was squashed up against them, not anticipating that the closet would already be occupied. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," He whispered back frantically. He backed up against the wall, but they still only had less than a foot of space between them. "George?" The voice whispered. Wait, George knew that voice. His stomach dropped, and realization came down on him like an anvil to his head. He was mortified; somehow George making a fool of himself was less embarrassing when he thought he had run into a stranger.