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you couldn't help the way your heart stuttered in your chest as miya walked beside you, squeezing through the crowd as the music continued to blare through the speakers. if you were being honest with yourself, you were ready to drop the ground and sob right then and there, but doing so would... draw a lot of attention, more or less.
when you managed to locate a small stall located towards the exit, you cautiously lay your hand onto the handle, scared of what you may find inside - after all, it was a portable toilet imported from god knows where in the middle of an illegal underground skate site.
the door creaked open and you cringed at the sight. before you were thousands of burnt-out cigarettes on the floor, graffiti and weird writing all over the walls, glass and broken bottles scattered across the ground, and some strange-looking stain on the side of the sink.
you could practically feel miya's look of disgust from behind you as you turned towards him, looking guilty.
"well."
"well," he repeated after you, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he looked the stall up and down.
"don't worry, it's alright," he said, giving you a sheepish smile, "i can just wash it off when i get home."
"dude, no way! that shit looks expensive, and my clumsy-ass ruined it," you sighed, biting your cheek as you stared at the stain.
there was a silence as miya pondered, an idea popping into his head.
"why don't you just come to my house?"
"what?" you stuttered, caught off guard by the question. "are you sure?"
"totally. my parents... uh, they won't mind," he trailed off, a tinge of sadness in his tone. you could tell by the way he spoke that he was biting his tongue.
