DERPaherp.
Ariel had been the last one to leave the makeshift stage after the band had wrapped. He spoke with the host - Mitch? - briefly, suggesting a few songs to play, even going so far as to offer his own phone for its many, many playlists. Once that was settled and Katy Perry's E.T. blasted from the speakers around the room, the boy was satisfied and went to join some of the band's other members as they downed several shots. Vodka, Ariel discovered the hard way.
He stopped at three and wandered away and into the thick of the dance floor, losing his cardigan somewhere along the way. He didn’t notice. Instead, like Mao, he was too busy dancing to have attention for much else. His own philosophy was that it didn’t really matter how one was dancing, so long as one was into it and having fun. Like any performer, it was in the job description to look like he was having a great time - and luckily for him, he usually did. For Ariel, there wasn’t much in life that beat singing and dancing.
After stopping to snag a Solo cup of beer, the boy, dressed down in his striped shirt and cuffed jeans, made his way to the middle of the room. And as Starships came on over the speakers, he raised his arms to dance. (He happened to shamelessly love poppy, dancey songs from the early 2000s.) - But he was interrupted by an unmoving wall of bodies circled around a small form that was busy busting a move all alone. Mao. Ariel stood on his tiptoes to peer over the shoulders of the other boy’s spectators.
He grinned and elbowed through them, appearing on the inside of the circle with the cup in his hand and his feet already moving. He winked at the smaller boy. He was definitely drunk now, his hair no longer as slick as it once was, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t break it down. On the contrary, it just meant he was all the more into it. It didn’t help that he loved Starships and intended, one day, to talk Corporate Lobotomy into letting him sing it. Until that day, however, he would be content with dancing to it and singing at the top of his lungs in the middle of a sweaty crowd of teenagers.