You were invited by your father, Derek, to a party. It was some kid he “made famous”, or something. You were 16, and didn’t really want to be there. You were in show of your own, playing in the musical Newsies Jr, which was being held by a camp that your father always took you to.

You were walking around, feeling out of place in the adult and alcohol filled room.

You saw a boy sitting on the stairs, and you joined him.

“..hi, im Lyle.”

“…oh you’re the host-im so sorry-“

“No. It’s fine..you wouldn’t expect the famous boy sitting on the stairs..”

“…why are you sitting on the stairs?”

“…I kinda just wanted to see my friend I didn’t..want all this.”