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Vincent ran a furious hand through his already tousled ash blonde hair and huffed a breath. Why was he allowing Zachary to get to him? The other man was his exact opposite and so definitely not his type. And yet...he was still attracted to him.

Vincent groaned in anguish and stalked over to the nearest punch bowl. In silence he filled a Styrofoam cup with the mildly appealing pink liquid and took a sip, only to spit it back out into the cup a second later. It tasted like feet, like old guy feet. Vincent set the cup on the table next to the bowl and headed for the exit this time. He looked over his shoulder once more; Zach was nowhere in sight and he didn't intend to wait around for hours until he decided to grace Vincent with his presence.

Pissed beyond all recognition, Vincent shoved the double doors open and stepped out into the cold night. It was much colder than he'd expected; then again, Paul Merchant had always been a crappy weather man. On the six o' clock news he'd estimated clear skies and an over fifty degrees Celsius temperature. It seemed as though the Fates had plotted against him, because at just eight o' clock a huge thunderstorm rolled into town, almost flooding the low-line area. Vincent hadn't been able to go to work that day and so he spent the whole morning cursing the weatherman, very aware that he couldn't have heard him but no really caring either.

Tucking his hands deep into the pockets of his pants he tightened his muscles to trap most of his body heat and started walking towards his house. It wasn't far from the high school; close enough where he didn't have to be late for any scholastic events but still far enough where if he didn't hurry he'd freeze his ass off.

He was still trying to figure out how and why he'd let Zach talk him into going to another one of their superficial school dances. It wasn't as if he had a date at any given time.

Vincent felt and heard a low buzz coming from the inside of his back pocket. He stopped walking for a moment, just long enough to find and pull the phone into the open, before he started again. He pressed a button and the screen of the came to life, almost blinding him with the intensity of the lights. It was a message. From Zachary.

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