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[/b][/h3][/sup][/color][/row][row][cell][sup][h2][color=black]Trystan Salazar[/color][/h2][/sup]
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[sup][color=black][b]█  [sup]   [/sup]act one: way down we go    [/b][/color][/sup][indent][sup][color=a9a9a9]p. johnson's [color=black]▸[/color] Ritman High, Football Field
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[color=silver]"Hey, if you're after Agent Smith I think I saw him go that way!" he laughed good naturedly, gesturing with his free hand off in the distance. "How's it been, man?"[/color]

Trystan followed Billy's hand, placing his gaze towards the point where the other man had pointed it. Of course, he did so in a pretty joking manner, playing along with the well intentioned attempt at hilarity at their reunion. He then looked back at Billy, whom he recalled rather fondly due to how entertaining he was back at the day, even if their number of serious interactions could be counted with the fingers of both hands. If there was one thing Trystan somewhat regretted, it would be the fact that he forgot to cultivate as many allia- ehem, friendships as his parents often told him to. Maybe something could change, starting from tonight.

"I have done quite well over the last seven years, yes," Trystan answered with a snorting chuckle, "Got into a publishing house as an editor, generating enough income to make the ancestors proud. And you, well, I heard you were in a band…"

Just as he was going to keep talking, another person came in, one that he was familiar with. The lady who used to accompany the mean girls that gave him the racism treatment. Nat… ah, what was it again? Natalia? Natasha? Nataliana? 

[color=silver]The guy had certainly received the sharp edge of the stick back then, the whole gang being unnecessarily hostile, Nat included. She felt slightly embarrassed, not sure of what to say. She stuck to a simple yet friendly but relaxed wave of the hand as a greeting.[/color]

"Hello, Natasha," Trystan answered without too much fanfare in his voice while truly ending up forgetting the actual spelling of her name. He was still internally malding about the past right to this very moment, but he knew well enough not to show it, especially when they had a delicate event going on. Maybe he'll have a word or two after the whole affair was done.

Other people started arriving, much to his relief, as he wondered if there was a greater portion of their old class that didn't bother coming along. None of the old gang of his had come so far, either. He recalled their machinations of chaos; the unravelling of horrible secrets, gossiping about the people they mutually disliked, and so on and so forth. To think they're the ones that didn't come along when he did…

One after another, in quick succession, did Melanie, Marco, and Samuel arrive. He recognized Melanie easily, as the time they spent playing Dungeons and Dragons together had made him quite familiar with her face. It helped that she wasn't radically changed, unlike Samuel. Samuel had lost much weight, and was in effect no longer, as Nat put it when she finally recognized him, 'Chubby Cheeks'. 

Wait, she apologized? So fast? That is new.

As for Marco, Trystan was simultaneously surprised and unsurprised by the cane. On one hand, he really did remember how Marco began to show up less in class, and when he did he either had crutches, canes, or at worst, had to ride a wheelchair. On the other hand, he never got used to the sight of Marco like that, knowing him mostly as the guy that always disappeared into the piano room. Speaking of which, he had been taught to play when he was a kid but he had mostly forgotten the art by now. Maybe…?

Trystan's thoughts were once again interrupted when Oleander, the Nigerian guy and fellow immigrant, arrived. He swore that Oleander was avoiding him during high school, probably because he had somewhat of a mixed rap. So it truly caught him off guard when Oleander hugged everybody, himself included. It was odd, at the very least, that someone who was once keeping his distance had now come close. Appreciative of the gesture, Trystan hugged him back, almost snapping his spine in the process. When Oleander was finishing hugging Billy, though, he began tearing up.

[color=silver]"Oh noooo..." he started, chuckling through the tears, "I can't believe I'm crying right now." He let out another laugh, wiping with the back of his palms, "This is why I hate being a crybaby. I'm so sorry guys, just ignore me. I'm being ridiculous."[/color]

"Ah, my dear, there is no shame with tears," Trystan said assuringly. "To weep is simply part of humanity, and evidently you have missed us, Billy most of all. So don't be sorry about that! You can… ah, be yourself."

[color=silver]“So, how long have y’all been waiting?” he ventures, glancing from one member of the group to another. A sudden gust of cold wind has him unscrewing the cap from his thermos, bringing it up to his lips to take a fortifying gulp.[/color]

"Not too long," Trystan answered. He remembered Dante somewhat too, recalling that he had a company of his own now, judging from the images in his timeline. "Though we are still missing a few folks, so we might have to wait a little bit more. Hopefully not too much."
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