If there is one thing worse than being crammed in the middle of Times Square on New Year's Eve, it's probably being abandoned by your best friend in the middle of Times Square on New Year's Eve. Five minutes before the ball drops. With a dead phone.
Jean exhaled sharply, shoving yet another elbow out of his ribs and attempting to gain some personal space, to no avail. This part of town was teeming with people, and he found himself wondering yet again why he had let himself be talked into this.
He'd lost Connie ten minutes in, and still had yet to find him. He wouldn't be surprised if the bald fuck didn't even realize he was gone, and was boozing it up with some "kind" strangers by now. He swore to the ends of the earth that when he found him, there would be hell to pay for dragging him all the way here, only to leave him stranded in this sea of people.
Sighing into the icy night air, he tried his phone again, holding down the power button and staring at the blank screen, trying to will it back to life. But, of course, he had no such luck.
It had been a stupid move to not charge his phone before leaving the hotel, but in his defense, it had been a chaotic night. Their flight had been delayed, thanks to the shitty Ohio weather and its constant storms, and they'd been an hour late to arrive, leaving them with only thirty minutes to prepare for the night ahead of them. Besides, how was he to know that Shit-For -Brains would leave him high and dry in one of the busiest parts of the city?
Jean grit his teeth as yet another scream of "Happy New Year!" was blasted mere centimeters from his ear, and reeled backwards into someone, only to be shoved forward again.
How the fuck could this ever be classified as fun?
It would be so easy to just leave; bulldoze a path through the horde of people packing him in on every side and head back to the hotel. Maybe stop at a liquor store on the way back and have a little celebration of his own, far from the havoc of Times Square. But like fuck he was going to give up now. He'd come all the way here, put up with the shitty airport security along the way, because apparently cigarette lighters and, for god's sake, a bottle of NyQuil weren't allowed past the boarding gates, and he was going to see this fucking ball drop, god dammit.
Scowling, he brought his wrist to eye level, squinting to make out the time.
Eleven fifty-eight.
Two more minutes of enduring this hell before he could make friends with a well deserved six pack, and hopefully forget about this entire ordeal.
But for now, he was stuck.
When the countdown began, Jean had the childish urge to cover his ears. The volume of the crowd was apocalyptic, its sound easily crushing Jean beneath it. He was sure that he would never hear again.
But, despite himself, as he looked upwards toward the clock counting down past ten, he felt an odd curl of excitement in his stomach, and leaned forward along with everyone else.
Five!
Four!
Three!
Two!
O-
As the last word slipped from his mouth, eyes turned skyward and alight with anticipation of what was to come, fingers were suddenly lacing through his and tugging him around. Before he could react, and more than likely get a few strongly worded sentences out at causing him to miss the one thing he'd come all this way to see, there were soft lips being pressed against his own in a soft, chaste kiss, effectively shutting him up.
The lips, and hand that had cupped his cheek, were gone before he could process what had happened, and he remained frozen.
The owner of said lips was smiling back at him, dark eyes glimmering in the sparkling, festive lights that shone around them from every angle.
There was a burst of confetti from somewhere overhead, and it rained down on them from the sky above, coloring the air thick with bright reds and greens.
"Happy New Year!"
Notes:
A super short piece that's been rotting away in my documents folder that will probably never get finished, so I figured I might as well post it. If anyone takes enough interest in it and would like me to continue, just let me know! Constructive criticism is always welcome.