He’s spent his entire Halloween blacked-out.

Not drunk (he wouldn’t dare touch a drop of that in his entire life, he was quiet and did things he actually enjoyed) he was Holt Hyde.

Which made him more or less frustrated. Earlier, he had woken up in a jail cell, knowing it was his alter ego that had put him in this situation…and it was up to him, the normie, to get himself out.

Which only lead to him becoming Holt once more.

Now, he was standing at the DJ-ing table (Holt’s duty that usually befell on him), staring out at the raging party. The raging party full of normies and monsters? When…when did they suddenly get along?

When did this even happen? What time was it? He assumed it was still Halloween…

“…today’s gotta be the worst time ever…!” Jackson groaned, pressing his hands further on the nose-cancelling headphones you had graciously put on his head.

Another day, practically blacked out. It was so frustrating.

“…sorry, I didn’t expect this to…y’know, happen today? But uh…hey, what happened? The last thing I remember is—“ he laughed nervously, then his throat went quiet and hoarse as you yanked him forward. You gripped his headphones, making his (probably scoliosis induced) spine hunch over to meet your gaze.