[center][img]http://i845.photobucket.com/albums/ab20/XxKayla36xX/Jareth%2036.png[/img]

[img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/e3/1c/5f/e31c5fc32f89bc6258dc6c215fed8546.jpg[/img]

[color=slategray][b]LOCATION[/b][/color] — The Band Room  {{aka the garage}} → Outdoors → Home Again
[color=slategray][b]INTERACTIONS[/b][/color] — Davy [sub]([@universorum])[/sub], Ari [sub]([@foxygen])[/sub], and Jade [sub]([@Altered Tundra])[/sub]
[color=slategray][b]TIME[/b][/color] — Time to run away from it all.

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Somehow, some way, and at some time, a very drunken Jareth managed to make his way home from the party. After reuniting with Ari, the night had went as follows: get shitfaced enough to forget the entire evening. Mission success! Jar was currently snoring lightly on the lumpy band room couch, his head bent in an uncomfortable angle that encouraged drooling. Discomfort aside, he slept like the dead. Hell, he was halfway there anyway, with the amount he drank last night.


A startling buzz went off in his back pocket. Apparently he had been too far gone to struggle out of his skinnies before crashing last night… or this morning? Whatever it was. Jareth sleepily fought to retrieve the phone from the tight pocket. After a few failed swipes, he managed to unlock the screen and opened the text message. He blinked away the blurriness in his eyes enough to focus on the picture, mostly. It was of Davy and Elysia. Ely was sleeping with her head on Davy’s chest, and he looked straight up [i]terrified[/i]. The caption read ‘[color=228b22]h e l p[/color]’. The gravity of such a picture did not really settle into Jareth’s brain, he was still half asleep and felt like he had been hit by a truck last night. Once, maybe twice, at least.


Jar’s first and only reaction was to respond with a selfie of his own - sending a picture of his grumpy mug, lids still partially closed, eyes smeared with yesterday’s eyeliner, and his left hand lazily flipping off the camera. He dropped the phone after sending the reply and buried his face back into the couch cushion. It was no fluffy down pillow, but it would do just fine in this state. Jareth was just a few blinks away from returning to sweet [i]blissful[/i]  sleep when he remembered that this was the cushion that Erik sat on, and that boy made it a point to rip ass in this very spot almost every band practice. Disgusted, Jareth sat up quickly and scrunched his face.


Jareth had never been one to sleep in for very long, even if he was hungover as fuck. Now was as good a time as any to wake up, it’s not like sleeping would make him feel better. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes for a bit, unknowingly smearing his eyeliner even more. He stood up, probably a little too quickly, as his head began spinning and he nearly tripped over something. Looking down, it was evident that some[i]one[/i]  was a more apt description, as Ari was sleeping in a heap on the 70’s style shag carpet. Jareth supposed that made sense, he couldn’t remember coming home, but at least they both made it somewhere that was not in a ditch.


Zombie shuffling to the small half-bath attached to the garage, Jareth flicked on the lights and looked in the mirror cabinet that hung above the sink. The reflection that stared back spooked him. [i]Damn[/i]. He looked like a raccoon that had been punched in both eyes, and then drowned for good measure. Jareth turned on the water and washed the makeup off as best he could before raking his fingers through his mess of hair - bits of glow paint still clumping it together. The combination of sea breeze and sleep had caused his high maintenance pin-straightened hair to curl up at the ends. That didn’t really matter, his morning run would making him sweat anyway, and that always wrecked his hair. He’d shower and properly coif when he got back.


Jareth quickly dressed in loose fitting silver basketball shorts, proper sneakers, and a black tank top, he looked like he was wearing a stranger’s clothes instead of his own. Most people never see him dressed like this, but running in skinnies isn’t very practical, or comfortable, or even healthy, most likely. Walking by a still sleeping Ari, Jareth nudged him lightly with his foot. No response.


“[color=slategray]Hey![/color]” he said before nudging again. Ari grunted in reply. “[color=slategray]I’m going for a run, feel free to grab breakfast inside or whatever and scare the shit out of the fosters.[/color]” Jareth hardly ever referred to the McKinney’s as his parents, they were always addressed by their first names, or as ‘the fosters’ or ‘the ‘rents’, the last only being if he was in a good mood. With that message delivered, he popped in his earbuds and headed out. Ari knew the drill, ‘mi casa es tu casa’ and all that, though he would probably just snooze until Jareth got back.


Running sucked. 


No, not just running in general. Truth be told, Jareth loved running, and did so almost every morning before school. Running while hungover, now [i]that[/i]  is what sucked. It was good, though, a healthy form of self flagellation to punish oneself for over-imbibing. It also helped with improving lung capacity - a coveted asset for singers - especially those who screamed. Thumping bass and screaming guitars encouraged Jareth to push through the workout.


Never one to run on boring, even ground, Jareth veered off into the woods along the side of the road. Leaves and sticks crackled underfoot as he sprinted between trees and jumped over tree roots and rocks as if they were hurdles. His iPod playlist switched from Killswitch Engage to Of Mice & Men to Pierce the Veil. He was desperately trying to recall what happened last night. It wasn’t until the last artist came on and Vic Fuentes was vocally lamenting love lost that the memory hit him like a freight train. 


Jareth slowed his run to a halt and stood dumbfounded in the woods as if Jade had kissed him all over again. The entire night was a blur before blacking out, but that moment was crystal clear. Jar felt a pang in his stomach as he touched his lips subconsciously. What the fuck was that about? Well, there was only one way to find out. Like the complete lovesick idiot that he was, Jareth pulled out his phone and sent a text to the she-devil herself - whose name still regrettably had a smirk and heart emoji beside it in his phone contacts. 


“[i][color=slategray]What the fuck was that about last night?[/color][/i]” he texted Jade, not bothering to fix her name in his phone. Perhaps it was laziness or perhaps, in some way, he was leaving it the way it was hopefully. It was stupid, letting her get close enough, falling for it, texting her like this now. It was all stupid, he knew that… but it didn’t stop him. Pain can be addicting.


Jar finished his run in silence, taking out his earbuds and instead focusing on his own musical plans. He had a lot of work ahead of him to get CrimSon ready for the battle of the bands. Jar had some new songs in the works, gatherings of lyrics and poetry that had yet to be paired with melodies or introduced to the band. Ari had seen them, Jareth didn’t really keep anything from him, he was good for bouncing ideas off of. Remembering what he had said to Ari last night after breaking away from Jade, Jareth was inspired to write the last verse.


Not so quietly arriving back, Jareth opened the garage door and let the sunlight pour into the makeshift band room. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and breathed heavily as he rifled through a desk for paper and something to write with. Ari stirred awake because of all the noise and light Jareth brought back with him from his run. It was probably good that he woke up now anyway. They had a shift at Pizza Hell in a few hours. Jareth distractedly said good morning, or something equivalent to it, as he scribbled out the lyrics from his brain and onto paper.


[center][i]“Give me your hand
The departure of the thief and monster is far from over
But everything is gonna be just fine
Everything will be just fine
We live in fear and danger of them
Their delicate cheeks will turn to rotting flesh
One day women will all become monsters”[/i]
[color=gray][sub]Actual Lyric Source: Chiodos[/sub][/color][/center]


He made scribbles and edits, removing words and replacing them before nodding and placing the pencil down. It was a good ending to a song that he started writing a few days after Jade had dumped him. The introduction and conclusion were pretty solid now, the middle chorus and bridge still needed work, and of course he needed Ari’s thoughts and talent to compose the guitar piece, but the song was really shaping up.