A few days had passed since then. The bruises had gotten less purple. I took things easy. Dylan eventually let me drive a little bit. We had moved from Northern California down a little lower. We stopped a lot to mess around. Just yesterday we spent hours on a kid's playground because Dylan was feeling nostalgic.

"I never went out to play on these things as a kid." He had said. "Come on, let's see who can jump the farthest off the swings."

I remember sitting on the swings set as the sun went down and watching him sit in a field of tiny yellow flowers, completely emerged. I remember leaning against the cold chains that held me up and sighing, because of how cute that was. So basically, what I'm saying is that I've spent the last few days possibly falling more in love with him. I say possibly because I'm still in denial.

Now it was nighttime. I was driving on a highway. Dylan was in the other seat, getting some well-deserved rest. He was either napping or just staring out the window. The lights flew past us. There were barely any cars around. It was strange but not unnatural. I yawned, feeling the tug of sleep pull down my eyelids.

Dylan sat up suddenly. "You want to find a place to pull over for the night? You look tired."

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm not falling over yet but it's probably around that time."

I exited the highway and drove through some streets. There was a parking garage a little way off. We passed through a neighborhood. Some people had started to put out their Halloween decorations. It was fun too look at. One house we passed by had lots of cars outside and there was big lights and loud music. Dylan perked up as we drove by.

"Hold on, stop here a moment."

I frowned, wondering what was going through his head for the millionth time since I'd met him. He rolled down the window and the sound of rave music and laughing young adults flooded through. He looked back at me and there was that look on his face. That glint in his eyes.

"No." I told him, right off the bat.

"Aw come on, Atticus. Have you ever been to a party like that before?"

I tilted my head and sighed. "Nope."

"Then let's do it." He rocked back and forth in his seat excitedly.

"We can't just go into some person's random house." I huffed. "We weren't invited."

"Atticus, Atticus, Atticus." He clicked his tongue. "This is a teenage rave. Half the people there weren't invited."

"But it'll be noisy and crowded." I continued. "And I have anxiety."

He put a hand on my shoulder. "Just try it okay? If you don't like we can scram. If we're kicked out we'll scram. I'll be by your side the whole time."

"Hm... maybe."

He had this look on his face. Like he wanted to show me something really amazing. I knew it was something I had never experienced before. It was a stupid idea, but I think that's what Dylan's thing was. Just going out and doing stupid things while we were still stupidly young and stupidly brave.

"I won't do anything you're not comfortable with." He promised, patting my hand lightly.

I glanced nervously at him, then pulled the car into an empty space on a curb and twisted the keys out. "Okay, but we leave as soon as anything goes wrong."

"Alright!" He whooped, eyes lighting up.

The two of walked down the sidewalk. I only half believed this was really happening. This is the last place I thought I'd ever find myself.

"Can we seriously just walk in?" I asked, getting kind of excited, but only a small bit.

"Oh, I have no idea." Dylan shrugged. "But I mean it's worth a shot, right? I've walked into these things before, it really depends."

"Wait you have?"

"Oh yeah. Even when I didn't know anyone. The trick is insane confidence and a willingness for the alcohol."

I frowned. "Oh. I don't want any of that."

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. I was just joking."

Part of me was kind of thrown off by the fact he was seventeen and had probably gotten drunk a few times. I mean... I was aware that was a very real thing that happens every day, I was just bothered by the fact I knew one of these people. Not with him, with his actions. I don't know. I just... I didn't like that kind of stuff. It... made me uneasy? I don't how else to explain it. Honestly it was probably some repressed memory resurfacing and bugging me.

We walked up to the door, which was open, and I followed Dylan inside. Nobody stopped us. I was just met with the faces of other teens looking either extremely out of it or they were really happy and pushing eachother over with laughter. It was really loud at first but as I Dylan grabbed my hand and pulled me deeper inside it all blended together into one big cacophony and became... manageable? It wasn't attacking all my senses at once.

The colors from the lights were green, red, and blue, in a steady loop. Those were good colors. There were no negative connotations. It was almost a weird sensory deprivation experience, if hadn't been for the crowds of people, and their smell. I could smell the alcohol on their breath and a thin layer of smoke hung in the air from various party activities and smoking of course.

Dylan pulled me into what I think was a living room and was probably the most packed, but there was certain degree of awareness of personal space so I wasn't suffering. Then he turned back towards me and to my surprise and curiosity reached down for my other hand. Then with a small smile he moved back a forth, dancing. The action it itself was so well-meant that everything else kind of faded away. My heart started pounding in tandem as I joined in. We were dancing, and I was enjoying it? I wasn't expecting to enjoy it and everything was just... happening so fast.

It that moment, despite all the things I expected to go wrong, I was glad I had him. I was really in love with him wasn't I. God, I was. I totally was. He just had this was of bring me out of my shell. Green. I looked at his face as we bounced to the beat, he was smiling and it was so crazy. Red. He laughed but I couldn't hear it over the rest of the noise. Blue. He was blue. Dylan was blue and he was staining everything with that color. I can't believe I knew him.

At one point I came down from the general adrenaline and told him I was getting tired. The noise started to grate against my skull a bit. In the kitchen it was a little quieter.

"And we don't even know these people." I said, still mystified, as the night dragged on and there were more and more passed out teenagers piling up in the corners.

"I told you it would be wild." He had a cup in his hand, his grin was sliding over to one side of his face, I don't really know where he got it but once I spotted it, it stuck out.

"Do you think we could go now? I think I've certainly gained a lot of experience." I didn't want to be that one guy who didn't let anyone have any fun but I didn't want to deal with a drunk Dylan.

"Mm, probably best. Before I go and mess it up, right?" He laughed, it was a little louder and boisterous then I thought was appropriate for his...joke?

Was that a joke? "Hey now."

He shrugged and downed whatever he was drinking in one go. "Whatever. I didn't say anything. I'll go back to being happy and excitable in a bit... just give me...few..."

I watched as he swayed on his feet a bit. "Geeze, how much did you drink?"

"God... not enough." He laughed again, but it was more tired. "I'm going to go find a restroom, then we'll...leave."

He must have been trying to put his empty cup on the counter but his missed and it fell to the floor. He didn't even blink. I stared at him curiously before he turned around saw his eyes had gone kind of glassy. Oh boy.

I followed him upstairs after we got some directions from another drunk person. I waited down the hall at the top of the steps. The smells were worse up here and it was grating more roughly on me. The blues had gotten darker and every once and a while I would feel that string of orange stab through. Yeah, the excitement was definitely wearing off and my introverted-ness was taking over. This was no longer fun.

The door clicked open, and I turned around, relieved. "Finally-hey!"

Dylan was walking down the hallway, and disappeared into one of the rooms after poking his head in. What was he doing? I thought we were leaving. I followed him and stuck my head in the room. I was met with the overwhelming smell of smoke and other various things. The room wasn't on fire, it was just full of high people. Now I was very uncomfortable. I spotted Dylan in a corner, talking to some guy. I frowned as they exchanged something, their hands were blurry in the darkness and the scent made my eyes water, but I had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, pulling his shoulder aside and out of the room.

He exhaled away from me and puffed out smoke. "S-sorry Atticus I just... this is the good stuff."

"You said you were going to stop." I muttered under my breath angrily.

Even behind the haze of whatever he had just inhaled, there was some level of understanding. "I'm sorry."

I watched as he lifted it back up with shaking hands and inhaled. I cringed. Watching him do that was painful. Not just for him but for me. I received another sting of orange. Bright orange. It was clear and vibrant, it scared me. Dylan isn't orange. Dylan isn't orange.

He exhaled in blue. Dark blue. Dark yellow. I felt queasy as I breathed some of it in. I felt like I was choking. I reached up to take it away from his but he shot me a look and held it away from my reach. For a moment we just stood like that. Blue. Orange.

"You d-don't understand." He said, stuttering whatever words he didn't slur. "I need this."

"No, you don't." I insisted.

His hands were shaking in hues of dark red and bright oranges. His words were blue, dark blue. The kind of blue that was an everlasting pit of nothingness. The kind of blue with no end, no matter what kind or words they were. Orange slices, with the taste of lemons, it's completely wrong.

"This is just how I deal with things, okay? You... you gotta let me..." He choked out a small sob, but I couldn't feel sorry for him,

"Dylan." I warned, as seriously as I could. "I'm leaving right now."

"Wait... Just... don't walk away!"

Those words bounced off my shoulders as I walked away, walking as fast as I could. The confrontation and rancid smell was closing around my throat in a noose of blue and orange colors. They didn't go together and were always fighting for dominance. I watched my feet slid down the stairs. Left, right, left, right. Blue, orange, blue, orange, blue, orange.

"Atticus!"

BLUE ORNAGE BLUE ORANGE BLUE ORANGE.

I was actually wheezing by the time my off-brand vans hit concrete. Then grass. Then more concrete. The fresh air stung my lungs. I could hear his shoes hitting the ground behind me. He was running. I felt his hand on my shoulder, then turned around and slapped, it away.

"Atticus." Dylan said slowly.

"Stop it! Shut up! Shut up! I can't talk to you when you're like this! I can't talk-" The sudden overwhelming feeling of blue and orange came back and I wanted to throw up. "Just leave me alone!"

I pushed him away and ran into the night towards the parked car.