Chapter Fifteen: Room 247

Jack Vaughn hadn't really planned on going out that New Year's Eve. To be honest, he didn't really even like New Year's Eve. It seemed like one of those occasions where you were, like, required to have fun, or you were the world's biggest loser. He'd spent enough New Year's Eves in front of the TV watching Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve to detest the holiday.

But after something like an hour in front of the TV on that particular New Year's, he found himself getting a little bored. Emily had told him he should think about stopping by the party at the hotel-- Keith's parents had allowed him to invite some friends, and Emily had assured him that he qualified. Plus, she had encouraged, Delia would probably be there...

Besides, the way Emily had been dressed, she could probably use some looking after.

Jack scrawled a note for his parents, who were hosting yet another party at the restaurant-- they had insisted that Jack and Emily not come help, that they go out and have some fun-- and quickly went about the business of showering and dressing in a pair of dark blue jeans and a black button-down shirt, shrugging at his reflection in the mirror. He'd been told more than a few times that he was a good-looking guy, and he believed it, he supposed. Still, he'd never paid a great deal of attention to the way he looked.

The party was busier than he'd expected; he was a tall guy, but still he had to stand on tiptoe to look around to see who was there.

"Vaughn, my man," said a familiar voice, as a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Oh...Colby, hey," Jack said, glad to see a familiar face. "I didn't think there would be so many people here."

"Hey, Andrew Lincoln's having a private party in one of the rooms upstairs," Colby said, eyes gleaming. Jack realized that Colby had already had a few drinks, and was probably a little stoned, as well. "Room 247, you should check it out."

"Nah, I think I'll just hang out down here for awhile," Jack said with a shrug. "I--" he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He whirled around to find Keith Jones, who currently did not have Emily attached to him like an appendage, which Jack supposed was a good thing, except--

"Where's Emily?" Jack and Keith asked at once.

"What?" Jack asked, frowning. "I thought she was coming to hang out with you."

"Yeah, I thought so, too," Jack said, looking more than a little irritated.

"Check out room 247, man," Colby said, swaying a little. "Andrew Lincoln's got his eye on her, I wouldn't be surprised if he--"

"You shut up," Keith cut in, eyes darkening.

"Seriously," Jack muttered. He'd have rather seen his sister with Keith than with Andrew Lincoln.

"Hey, Jack, you should really go up there," Colby responded, unfazed. "Delia's up there, and she's-- she's--"

The tail end of his sentence landed in a puddle of vomit on the ballroom floor, along with what Jack guessed to be Colby's dinner and the better part of a bottle of tequila.

"Dude, let's get out of here," Keith said, clamping a hand down on Jack's shoulder.

"Yeah," Jack muttered.

"Room 247?"

"Yeah."