Shiloh/OPEN
There was little doubt that calling attention to himself by throwing a party at work was bad news. Shiloh was helpless when it came to avoiding his inherent desire to take risks, and he'd been boringly well-behaved for weeks now. It was impressive he'd made it this long, and anyone who knew him well would've attested to that readily. But no one he knew was around. He'd seen Heath on the forums, and that conversation had gone about as poorly as a thing could go. He'd been blatantly posting as Shiloh F., but he was still going unnoticed, and perhaps confidence was making him sloppy. But it could be said that the whole mess with being thrown out of the church for his impostor shenanigans was sloppy, so tonight's events weren't any significant deviation.
He was sitting on one of the pinball machines, beer bottle in hand. A few seconds earlier, he'd been in the neon-lit bathroom, and there was still powder residue on his nose. He was casual, curls riotous and grin crooked and seeking trouble. His pupils were bloated in green eyes, and he was tapping a sneaker against the pinball machine's front, tap-tap to the music that played loudly overhead. He was trouble on long legs and much too thin for his height, and he waited for something interesting to come his way. One way or another, he was looking to have a memorable evening.