Mello really wasn't sure why he was bothering to go to this thing anymore. Sure, it had sounded fun when it was proposed, but at the moment that felt like a lifetime ago. Right now, he was in this stupid fucking dress which didn't even come close to matching the explosive combination of anger, irritation, frustration, and depression that was his mood.
But he'd said he'd go, and he supposed ice cream wasn't a bad thing. Maybe it would actually make his mood better to see a bunch of guys looking like idiots. He doubted it, but maybe. At least they weren't hard to find.