(#Wattys2018) Time Out! [Tracer x Male Reader]

Part 12

   You finally decided on a brown, button-up shirt with some Khaki's and black tennis shoes. It was the best mix of formal and casual you had. Besides, it was only for one night. Checking the time, you realized you had barely 15 minutes left until the party. Did you want to leave now? Did you want to be fashionably late? Did you even know how to be fashionably late? Would showing up on time give people a negative impression? These questions alone already chiseled off 2 minutes from your highly limited time. Whatever. You decided to throw on your clothes and begin your walk to the party. 

   As you walked along the cold sidewalks, you realize that time wasn't really of an importance, since the building was a bit of a distance anyway. That was beneficial to you, however - it gave you more time to think about things. You wondered what sort of interactions you'd have with the party-goers, particularly one party-goer whom you seem to run into fairly often. 

   Oh, shit... Would she even turn up? This thought alone was enough to pause you dead in your tracks and almost turn around, but you put your hands in your pockets and hesitantly continued onward. The memory of your ongoing mission lurked around your head, and you weren't about to risk it because of chance. No way. 

   You felt the day grow into night, the sky shedding its former baby blue pigment for a darker, quieter hue. Street lights began to illuminate your way to the party, which was growing nearer and nearer with every step. 

   The near journey came to a close when you found yourself in front of a large, festively-decorated, brightly-lit house. Dozens, if not hundreds, of citizens were scattered around, all beaming with happiness, socializing with one another. The voices of all kinds of chit-chat seemed to merge into one, continuous, inaudible conversation. A few of them dressed casual, like yourself, others dressed a bit fancier. You didn't know if it would be improper to bring your jacket, so you left it back at the hotel. The cold didn't make you realize this, though; it was only after you attempted to put your hood up that you remembered you didn't have one. You still didn't feel like getting noticed too much, though, so you kept your face down, but only just a little. Shuffling over to the door, you ignored a few polite hand waves you were receiving and was about to knock until you saw a sign which read "Door's unlocked. Closed because of weather. Come on in!" 

   You slowly obliged, slipping side and quietly closing the door behind you. A very loud,  house-wide speaker system was playing a playlist of all the popular Christmas songs, the current one being "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree" by Brenda Lee. The house on the inside had been decorated even more than the outside! Signs, lights, wreaths, tinsel, etc. for as far as the eye can see. The biggest, most vibrant decoration, though... The pièce de résistance... A giant, dark green, heavily decorated tree was resting in the corner, lighting up the entire room with red and green magic. On top of the tree lay a bright, white star that twinkled endlessly. 

   Aside from the mesmerizing decor, you watched other people chatter and giggle as they sipped their red, plastic cups of ... What the hell were in those cups? You looked under the table and saw a cooler of various 2-liter soda bottles. 

   After some hesitation, you decided to grab one and pour yourself a cup. May as well blend in while you can. Having never tasted soda before, taking the first sip of your drink was ... Interesting. The fizz first made you feel as if it was slowly burning through your tongue, causing you to subtly panic until you tasted and swallowed the drink. Surprisingly delicious. You looked down at the orange drink. Still bubbling from when you poured it. Another sip wouldn't kill you ... Hopefully. Taking a bigger gulp than last time, the soda was just as sweet and yummy as before. Soon, you had downed your cup in no time flat. Then that one cup turned into two, then two turned into three. By that point, you'd lost count, and didn't even realize you had already established yourself as "that guy at the party who doesn't talk and just drinks all the soda". You were well into your eighth or ninth cup when you felt a tap on your shoulder.