Archive of Our Own ^beta

The streets are growing dark, autumn dusk falling to welcome them in for the night. Somewhere, a few streets away, there's the faintest sound of music, like a faerie lure calling him to come and revel. It's a bad connection to draw, since he's supposed to be mentally preparing to enjoy this nighttime outing... 

His first party in America. An inglorious achievement.

"But we aren't able to drink here?" Edwin points out, trailing along helplessly. Charles just grins back at him and claps a hand on his shoulder.

"That's why it's a house party, mate. Like back home, yeah? Someone knows someone who got some booze in. Reckon it's one of the grads, maybe."

"I'm really sure we shouldn't be doing this. What if the studio find out? What if our parents find out—"

Charles drags him to a stop, hands on both his shoulders now. They're very warm. "Edwin. Chill the fuck out for a sec. It's gonna be aces, and if you feel like you're gonna chun then just let me know and get outside for a bit. Water, if you need it. It's not like the plan is to get totally wankered, you know? It's just dancing and fun."

Right. Dancing and fun. Edwin nods once, trying to feel the determination he's planning on faking. Charles grins brightly at him and then tows him along the streets towards the party.

"Hey, welcome!" Monty smiles, bouncing on his toes as he pulls the door open. It's a nice house, on a nice street. Like all the American houses Edwin has seen so far, it's in its own plot, with a deep front garden and a porch. There are already people inside, and music, and Edwin has to wonder where on earth Monty's parents are, to allow this. "So, the only rules are don't be stupid and break stuff, don't go upstairs, and if you throw up you have to clean it up. Esther hates it when people stain the floor. They're hardwood. At least aim for the carpet, if you really have to. Those are all fakes—"

Charles keeps a hand on Edwin's shoulder as they follow the chattering boy through the hall into a bright kitchen. At least three other students Edwin recognises from the studio are hovering in there, greeting him and Charles before continuing their conversations. Two girls seem to be very seriously discussing something emotional, clutching cups and gesticulating wildly, and a boy is pouring a drink from the fridge.

"—and coats here, if there's no space by the door. Shoes too, but we're used to that, right?" Monty laughs, a bell-like sound that makes Edwin face him and smile as well. Charles finishes toeing his trainers off and disappears with a brief 'be back soon', and suddenly Edwin is alone. Monty clears his throat, leaning on the kitchen island in the centre of the room and drawing idle patterns on the countertop, looking a little nervous. Edwin feels abruptly grateful that he isn't the only one afraid of these spontaneous one-on-one social chats. "Well, I'm really glad you came. I didn't think you would, actually,"

Edwin makes a face. "I didn't want to." Monty's shy smile drops and he almost starts to frown. Edwin feels awful, immediately, scrabbling to correct his mistake. Idiot. "I mean, I didn't want to, but Charles convinced me it would be fun to try. I'm not really one for parties. Too—" Boring.

"Serious?" Monty suggests, the half-smile returning. "You're always so focused in class, it's really impressive actually. I always wish I was as professional as that. Esther is always saying I need to take things more seriously or else there's no point, right?"

It isn't clear how he's supposed to respond to that. He agrees, in the end, but agreeing with people's parents is a terrible idea, generally. "Well, Mr Kashina is always talking about the emotions of dance, so I suppose there's a place for that… less seriousness?"

Monty beams at him, nodding eagerly and launching into a particularly effusive speech about Mr Kashina — who he, like Charles, insists on calling 'Kashi' — and the emotional, acting side of dance. Edwin finds that after initially preparing himself to fake listening as long as he can, he actually is listening, and then he's interjecting, responding, conversing.

It's a little too much of a debate to be 'chatting' with a peer, but from the way Monty is getting animated and still smiling, laughing at him and arguing with him in equal measure, Edwin thinks he might be close to cracking it. It's… nice, to debate the ethos of performance, the meaning of dance, his reasons for doing it at all. To swap and share stories about classes past and present, and move swiftly onto their ideas of the future.

Monty is bent over, elbows on the counter and looking up as Edwin tries in vain to illustrate his point about how much a professional career would mean to him, when Charles sticks his head back into the kitchen.

"Oi, there you are! Didn't think you'd still be here. Crystal and Niko are here, you should come and say hi."

Edwin glances to Monty, straightening up and smiling, though his mouth is closed this time. "It was… fun, talking with you, Monty."

"Yeah, same," Monty agrees, pushing his hair back. He glances past Charles and then waves at someone. "Maybe we can continue sometime?"

"Absolutely. I would greatly like to hear your thoughts on the ballet greats of the twentieth century. I was going to ask, but—" Monty nods eagerly, cutting off his explanation.

"For sure! I'll grab your number at class on Monday, and we can go get coffee during break and pick things up there?"

They both look round as Charles makes a peculiar, shocked sounding laugh. He holds his hands up and ducks away quickly. Odd. Monty has a strange tension to his jaw when they turn back to each other, still smiling though. "I don't drink coffee, generally. More of a tea person."

"How could I forget?" Monty laughs, the tension bleeding away, but he looks a little… droopy. Stand up straight! Posture! Engage your core— Edwin's past teachers all bark in his head. Monty's must be doing the same, because he pulls himself up again after. "That's fine. It was still cool to talk to you properly."

"Well, hold on," Edwin protests, because he knows a deferral when he hears one. "I have heard that there is a place selling 'bubble tea' in town. I suppose that might be close enough to what I'm used to, to suffice?"

Monty isn't tall, but his posture is absolutely perfect when he draws himself up, lit up with a very big smile. "That would be great! I love bubble tea! Oh, you'll have to try the classics. And maybe one without bubbles, first, but then—" He cuts himself off with a laugh. "Sorry, I'm about to get started all over again. Monday. It's a… plan!"

Edwin smiles back, nods his goodbye, and walks off feeling rather good about himself.

"—no! I swear to god that's exactly what it looked like!"

"But this is Edwin, are you really sure—"

"Hey Edwin!" Niko bounces over and hugs him tightly in her fluffy socks, up on her toes as usual. "I'm so glad you came! You are going to have so much fun." She's deadly serious. He thinks it might be a threat, but it makes him smile anyway. He's doing rather a lot of that, this evening.

"Hi," Crystal adds, waving from Charles' side, one hand permanently in her pocket. "So, is this your first party?"

Edwin supposes birthday parties for classmates at the local gamezone probably don't count. He only attended them in junior school, anyway. "Yes, actually. So far it seems to involve a lot of talking."

Charles, Crystal and Niko all exchange a look. Perhaps he has already made a mistake, then. "I mean, that's pretty accurate," Crystal shrugs, to his surprise. "Lots of standing around talking, or dancing and talking, or sitting and talking."

"Or shouting and talking because the music is too loud," Charles quips.

Edwin has to agree. In the time he was talking to Monty, the house seems to have filled up even more. It isn't a huge house, so it doesn't take a lot to feel full, but there seem to be far more people than he knows from class here suddenly. "Who are all these people?" he asks, as some tall, dark-skinned boy brushes past to enthusiastically greet a group of people in the living room. "Are they all friends of Monty's?"

"Oh mate, we have got to get you out more."

"I'm not a recluse!"

"Oh, Edwin," Niko says with sweet sadness. "You really are. You work too hard, you know? You wouldn't even come to Chipotle on Thursday!"

And Edwin… can feel the light-hearted air surrounding them all. So he lifts his chin with his best, most haughty expression, and primly tells her 'that was Wednesday, Niko. Thursday I wouldn't go with you to Subway."

They lock eyes for a long three seconds before Charles snorts and ruins the façade, and they all break into varying degrees of laughter.

"Alright, a regular comedian you're turning into. One party and you're ready to sass us all. I'm going to need a drink to survive this, I think. You guys coming?" He throws his arms around Crystal and Niko's shoulders, fingers even stretching to curl into Edwin's sleeve on the way past.

Niko gets the hiccups and they have to retreat to the porch, while she sits with her head between her knees, groaning miserably. Crystal holds her hair just in case, massaging her back, and promising repeatedly to the boys that they'd be fine out here by themselves, if Charles and Edwin want to go back.

Edwin is happy enough to get some air, leaning back against the side of Monty's house and looking at the cloudy night sky, with his friends — actual, real, proper friends — and a lovely buzzy feeling in his stomach to keep him warm. Charles ducks inside to grab their coats and shoes, and although they don't put them on, sitting with his coat weighted around his shoulders is unimaginably cosy.

They'd mixed the bottle of peach schnapps with fruit juice until it didn't taste like much at all, and from the size of the plastic cups Charles had been liberally pouring them, probably had most of the bottle just between the four of them. Edwin had stopped after the first one, sipping at it, but Niko had gone back for more, and then had danced very exuberantly with Charles and Crystal to some loud, upbeat music until she'd begun to feel sick. Edwin had mostly stuck on the edge, watching and laughing with her, and bravely letting her pull him around a few times in a vague approximation of a dance move. It had been lovely. It had been joyful. And it's something he wants to do again, to his own immense shock.

"I think," he declares grandly, to the three other teenagers and the night air in general. "That I quite like parties."

Charles howls like a wolf in celebration, punching the air and shaking him by the shoulders, making Edwin laugh helplessly. Niko manages a weak 'woo', before groaning again.

"Can you get us some water, maybe some bread?" Crystal asks, leaning on Niko's back in a soft sort-of hug. It looks rather comfortable, Edwin thinks. He takes Charles' hand to get up, stumbling across the… the sticking up bit along the bottom of the doorway. The doorframe? Gosh, he should know that.

He stifles his giggles, leaning heavily into Charles' side on their way to the kitchen. "You all good?" Charles checks, leaving Edwin propped on the window bench as he rifles around for what they might need.

The sounds of an argument catch Edwin's attention, somewhere out in the hall. His impulse control must be oddly absent, a sensation he's unfamiliar with and notes, even while swaying up onto his feet, graceful as ever, light-footed enough to pad out of the kitchen without Charles being any the wiser.

The voices aren't super close, but Edwin has always has sensitive hearing. He glances up the stairs and remembers Monty's rule. But if someone is in trouble then he should probably go and help. As he places his foot on the first step, a door upstairs clicks shut, and a hand falls on his on the banister.

Surprised, he looks around, almost tumbling over the books stacked on the stairs. The man standing there reaches with his other hand and steadies Edwin by the waist, helping him balance as he steps back onto two feet on the floor.

"Naughty naughty, where were you going?" the man asks, smiling.

"Nowhere. I mean, I heard, something. From upstairs."

The man's eyebrows fly up. He's very strangely interesting looking, with a little scar on his lip, an almost leonine face, and pale hazel eyes that look gold in the overhead hallway light. "And you were going to join in? Kinky."

Edwin startles, twitching away. "No! Nothing like that. Why would you say that?"

The man snorts, leaning on the banister comfortably. When he props a foot up, toe first, Edwin notices he's still wearing shoes, contrary to Monty's rules and different from everyone here. They're big, chunky black boots that Edwin rather likes, but what stands out even more is the skirt above. Kilt? It must be a kilt, on a man, surely.

"Hey, handsome, eyes up here. You're the one trying to sneak up to listen in to the show."

"They were arguing, I was going to check on them!"

"Not anymore," the man points out, glancing up. Sure enough, the sounds have all disappeared. "Probably for the best we can't hear what's happening now. Little Monty would be so pissed off. It's usually his bedroom people end up using, after all."

Edwin shakes his head, taking a step away, sideways, towards the kitchen. Around this strange man. "Maybe you should tell him, so he can stop them then. I certainly wouldn't want anyone to be having… sex in my bed."

"He'll get over it," the man says simply. "I haven't see you around before. Are you new at the studio?"

There's an urge not to tell this man anything, that Edwin wonders about the origin of. Some kind of instinct? Just a 'bad vibe', as the others might say? Or simply the unease of talking to a stranger, about things he'd rather not think about…?

"Edwin! Thought I'd lost you there, mate. Who's this?" Charles appears like an angel sent straight from heaven to save him, clutching a cup of water and a plate of toast.

"Well, how do you do?" the man says. "Call me CK. And you are?"

"Actually, Edwin, we need to head out. Sorry mate, nice talking to you, but we're on a mission." Charles' smile is broad and easy as he shakes the bag. Edwin isn't sure if he's just that good an actor, or if he avoids the introduction by chance, distracted. The man, CK, just another weird American name, gives a little irritated twitch of his head, but pulls his mouth into a small smile. "Forth, to the trenches!" Charles declares dramatically, looping their arms together and dragging him out without a backwards glance.

The door closes behind them and Edwin relaxes.

So, for that matter, does Charles, who looks back over their shoulders as he hands the water and toast over, making a face at the door. "Who was that bloke?"

"I'm not sure."

"You didn't look too cosy, chatting to him. Everything alright?"

"Yes, I think so. He was a little forward. And…" Edwin shrugs, not sure how to finish that thought. "You don't know him?"

Charles shakes his head, sitting back down on the porch and tugging Edwin down. Crystal watches them, holding a piece of toast near Niko's face for her.

"He doesn't do the pre-pro classes. We'd have seen him around, for sure."

"Apparently he knows Monty. And attends these parties frequently."

Crystal tilts her head. "Who are you talking about?"

"Some guy who was bothering Edwin." She pins him with a look. Charles raises his hands. "I didn't get a good look! I was distracted."

"CK, he said," Edwin reminds him. Crystal squints, and then shakes her head without recognition.

Niko raises her head just enough to ask "is he cute?" before she has to hang it again with a miserable sigh. Crystal, trying not to laugh, pulls out a hair tie and loops her silver hair up out of the way.

"I think we should start walking to the bus. Or maybe just all the way. If we take it slow then it'll be good exercise after all the schnapps."

"We'll come with you, won't we Edwin?"

Edwin glances back in through the kitchen window. "I think that might be a good idea. Will Monty be alright, do you think? There are still a lot of people inside."

Crystal is already helping Niko up, into her shoes and coat. Charles tugs his trainers on and nudges Edwin's over to him. "I'm sure he'll be fine, mate. He wouldn't throw this many parties if he wasn't okay with it. Besides, you haven't met his mum yet, but she's proper scary. No one will go too crazy in her house. It's nice of you to worry though."

"Alright. In that case I would welcome the walk. I enjoyed the drink, but I'm not sure it enjoyed me."

There's a silence, then Crystal tells him, bluntly, "you talk like a history book. What does that even mean, Edwin?"

Edwin just shrugs, mysteriously. Until Charles nudges him with his shoulder, and then he breaks into a snorting sort of giggle that is the subsequent topic of their amusement, for all the long minutes it takes them to get Niko down the steps and onto the street.

Merriment accompanies them all back to their rooms for the night, and lingers even in Edwin's dreams. He smiles to himself all through brushing his teeth and washing his face, folding away his clothes, and finally laying his head down to sleep.