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The party had, for lack of a better word, thrown the nature side of the woods pretty off balance. The typical noises of animals around this time of night had gone quiet on account of the sheer ear bending noise the lumber mill was making. On the outskirts however there was an uncertain peace, the drums didn’t pound quite as hard here and the screeches of a vocalist didn’t seem to travel quite this far, the odd bird chirping or frog croaking could be faintly heard every now and again, as the woods seemingly began to once more come to life.

[i]“I CLOSED MY EEEEEEYES AND I SLIPPED AWAAAAAAAAAAAY!!”[/i]

In an instant the frogs dipped back underwater and the birds erupted from the trees as Peter Grey air guitared his way down the dirt path, kicking up twigs and bits of earth as he glided by with all the grace of a bull in a meth lab or however that saying went. Peter began jumping up and down like a schizoid as he imagined the big finish of his, assuredly, amazing live performance.

[i]“IT’S MORE THAN A FEEEELIN! I BEGIN DREAMIN’

MORE THAN A FEEEEEELIN’!”[/i]

In an instant, a pirouette too far perhaps, Pete looked around and learned quite quickly he was lost. He was already late so getting there fast wasn’t high on his priority list but he’d been too, far too, engrossed in his music and seemed to have gone off the dirt path. Considering he didn’t spend much of his time out in the woods of Farmer’s Hill this presented a pretty big issue, slightly Peter began to panic. He put a hand in his pocket to reach for his phone as he pulled off his headphones.

In an instant Peter’s expression turned to annoyance as he gave out an irritated grunt and took his hand out of his pocket.

He could hear, quite well, just how loud the music had truly gotten, if anything it felt like he was standing right outside the lumber mill. Letting his headphones rest around his neck and placing his hands in his pockets Pete followed the sounds and made his way to the mill.

============================

Barely, and I really do mean barely, Peter managed to squeeze through a gap in the chain link fence, finally getting a full view of the mill. The music was, obviously, at it’s loudest here but Pete didn’t mind, it’s something you got used to fairly quick with parties provided you didn’t stand next to speakers.He took stock of the place and began looking for the ever elusive “second party” that pretty much always happened at these affairs, pretty often Pete would get let in but not everyone was cool with a “J” so there’d been times he was forced to finish outside in the dead of winter, not fun. 

Passing through some stragglers outside and giving the odd vague smile or wave of recognition Peter approached what he was sure was the entrance to the veritable nirvana, oddly enough though there wasn’t any gorilla or congregation of gorillas standing all tough like in front of it. Not that Peter was disappointed at the lack of large angry men but there was usually a certain rhythm to these little soirees that made the difference all the more noticeable. 

As if to answer his confusion Pete was treated to the growing volume of someone yelling on the other side of the mill, while he couldn’t make out most of the tirade Peter did manage to hear the word faggot, meaning either a hate crime was transpiring or a British person was greatly unhappy with their cigarette. Against his better judgement Peter, reluctantly, walked away from the VIP entrance and followed the pleasing rant. 

As he rounded the corner Peter saw Hagan lifting some guy by the scruff of his neck and screaming in his face, Peter made out two girls behind them witnessing the whole affair but he didn’t pay them as much mind, Hagan was quite clearly stealing the show at present.

Breaking into a half jog Peter got closer and closer to the group. He’d only spoken to Hagan a handful of times, he was pretty sure they’d shared a joint once but they were hardly bro’s, even still he tried his best to diffuse the situation before it got even more out of hand. As he neared the group Peter noticed a cane strewn across the ground next to the guy Hagan was manhandling, he cringed as he put two and two together.

“Hagan, man chill out. Whatever’s goin’ on we can just all go back to the party and get loaded instead of standin’ out here freezin’ our asses off.” Not exactly the most charismatic of diffusals but Pete at least hoped the allure of alcohol might worm a bit of rationale into the brain of Hagan and the others that the only thing that whatever was happening here wasn't as important as (mostly) underage drinking and substance abuse.