lavender.bones
wanderer
It was strange how your hometown could seem so different in just several years time, but unfortunately everything changed with time that was just part of life. Griffon had probably changed too. No, he definitely had and it wasn't a change for the better by any means. He was still the same old Griffon which meant stubborn, hot headed, and definitely still way too immature for his age. For a twenty nine year old he still managed to drank way too much, make questionable decisions, and more than often than not find himself in sketchy and even considerably dangerous situations.
Griffon had little concern for the impact that his decisions had on the people in his life, or his own general well being. The change of scenery had been refreshing for a while, but it didn't help him to get his life back on track any. It had only taken a little over five years for Griffon to end up back in his hometown, ironically enough the one place that he swore he'd never go back to considering the last thing he wanted to do was admit to anyone that still knew him he'd failed at starting a successful life elsewhere.
Lying was still an option, but Griffon was a terrible liar and he was sure it wouldn't take much for them to figure out that Griffon still was a long shot from even remotely having his shit together. He had told a few people he was back in the area, only after coincidentally running into them while doing errands around town. He didn't leave his apartment unless he absolutely had to, and those were for reasons that Griffon didn't exactly want to discuss at this point in time.
The skeletons in his closet were getting restless, but that didn't mean he wasn't determined to continue to shove them back in there until he had absolutely no choice.
It wasn't like Griffon really had too many close friends left anyway, more so just acquaintances or people that he didn't mind drinking with the odd time. Most of his actual friends had moved on with their lives and were either getting married, having kids, or getting settled into their careers. None of those things sparked any sort of interest in Griffon, and seemingly never had.
It had been a last minute decision to take up an invitation to a party that his old friend Dakota was having, apparently running into old friends didn't always end up being a bad thing. He and Dakota had always been close friends since they'd been young, but had drifted apart when Griffon had chose the path of drugs and non stop partying for the last couple years of high school.
At this point anything seemed better than lying around his apartment wallowing in self-pity, which seemed to be how Griffon spent most of his time lately. Even though it was a risky decision to attend this party, the likelihood of the people being there that Griffon was trying to avoid wasn't that likely. Dakota didn't hang out around the bad crowd that Griffon had found himself mingling with prior to skipping town, which meant attending this party wasn't too high risk of a situation. After getting dressed in a hoodie and jeans, he decided that he was as ready as he would ever be. He was beyond trying to impress people, either they liked him or they didn't - their loss.
Grabbing his car keys off the kitchen counter he kicked on an old beaten pair of skate shoes before locking his apartment and heading down the flight of stairs that lead to the back parking lot. In the parking lot sat Griffon's pride and joy, a beaten to hell black Honda Civic that Griffon valued with his life. Climbing into the passenger seat he couldn't help but think to himself that it was a miracle in itself that the thing even started. Even if she needed a little more than a bit of TLC he couldn't really complain too much, it got him where he needed to go.
Turning the key in the ignition he wasn't sure why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable, or why he couldn't seem to shake the bad feeling looming in the back of his mind waiting to rear it's ugly head. He assumed it was probably just anxiety that he had agreed upon going to this party at all, especially when he was seriously starting to doubt that it was a good idea at all.
But, what if they showed up?
That was impossible, he convinced himself as he shook his head and tried to dismiss that thought from his mind entirely. It had been five years, they'd probably long forgotten about everything. Griffon was met by the aroma of cigarettes, weed, and copious amounts of alcohol upon entering the party. Twenty One Pilots blared in the background, the bass echoing throughout the paper thin walls of the house with ease.
Griffon weaved carefully through the crowds of people, trying not to look as out of place and awkward as he was currently feeling.
Griffon had little concern for the impact that his decisions had on the people in his life, or his own general well being. The change of scenery had been refreshing for a while, but it didn't help him to get his life back on track any. It had only taken a little over five years for Griffon to end up back in his hometown, ironically enough the one place that he swore he'd never go back to considering the last thing he wanted to do was admit to anyone that still knew him he'd failed at starting a successful life elsewhere.
Lying was still an option, but Griffon was a terrible liar and he was sure it wouldn't take much for them to figure out that Griffon still was a long shot from even remotely having his shit together. He had told a few people he was back in the area, only after coincidentally running into them while doing errands around town. He didn't leave his apartment unless he absolutely had to, and those were for reasons that Griffon didn't exactly want to discuss at this point in time.
The skeletons in his closet were getting restless, but that didn't mean he wasn't determined to continue to shove them back in there until he had absolutely no choice.
It wasn't like Griffon really had too many close friends left anyway, more so just acquaintances or people that he didn't mind drinking with the odd time. Most of his actual friends had moved on with their lives and were either getting married, having kids, or getting settled into their careers. None of those things sparked any sort of interest in Griffon, and seemingly never had.
It had been a last minute decision to take up an invitation to a party that his old friend Dakota was having, apparently running into old friends didn't always end up being a bad thing. He and Dakota had always been close friends since they'd been young, but had drifted apart when Griffon had chose the path of drugs and non stop partying for the last couple years of high school.
At this point anything seemed better than lying around his apartment wallowing in self-pity, which seemed to be how Griffon spent most of his time lately. Even though it was a risky decision to attend this party, the likelihood of the people being there that Griffon was trying to avoid wasn't that likely. Dakota didn't hang out around the bad crowd that Griffon had found himself mingling with prior to skipping town, which meant attending this party wasn't too high risk of a situation. After getting dressed in a hoodie and jeans, he decided that he was as ready as he would ever be. He was beyond trying to impress people, either they liked him or they didn't - their loss.
Grabbing his car keys off the kitchen counter he kicked on an old beaten pair of skate shoes before locking his apartment and heading down the flight of stairs that lead to the back parking lot. In the parking lot sat Griffon's pride and joy, a beaten to hell black Honda Civic that Griffon valued with his life. Climbing into the passenger seat he couldn't help but think to himself that it was a miracle in itself that the thing even started. Even if she needed a little more than a bit of TLC he couldn't really complain too much, it got him where he needed to go.
Turning the key in the ignition he wasn't sure why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable, or why he couldn't seem to shake the bad feeling looming in the back of his mind waiting to rear it's ugly head. He assumed it was probably just anxiety that he had agreed upon going to this party at all, especially when he was seriously starting to doubt that it was a good idea at all.
But, what if they showed up?
That was impossible, he convinced himself as he shook his head and tried to dismiss that thought from his mind entirely. It had been five years, they'd probably long forgotten about everything. Griffon was met by the aroma of cigarettes, weed, and copious amounts of alcohol upon entering the party. Twenty One Pilots blared in the background, the bass echoing throughout the paper thin walls of the house with ease.
Griffon weaved carefully through the crowds of people, trying not to look as out of place and awkward as he was currently feeling.
