This might have all been a mistake. Here he was, in some old faded black band t-shirt Crowley had given him, looking around a room full of drinking teenagers. They were partying, listening to the warm up acts, shouting and dancing and -- he didn't even know how to process it. What would his parents think? They'd have a heart attack if they knew where he'd snuck off too.
Hell, he might have a heart attack. The thrill of rebelling was wearing off and now he was just anxious. He gripped onto Crowley's sleeve without realising and looked around again. "What do we do exactly?"
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This might have all been a mistake. Here he was, in some old faded black band t-shirt Crowley had given him, looking around a room full of drinking teenagers. They were partying, listening to the warm up acts, shouting and dancing and -- he didn't even know how to process it. What would his parents think? They'd have a heart attack if they knew where he'd snuck off too.
Hell, he might have a heart attack. The thrill of rebelling was wearing off and now he was just anxious. He gripped onto Crowley's sleeve without realising and looked around again. "What do we do exactly?"