"...I'm not pretending that I don't feel left out, but I get it-- I get it, Max. Don't worry about it. Just sneak me back a beer or two and I'll be happy," the alien grinned, flopping down on the couch to at least give the pretence that he was happy staying there for the remainder of the night, until Maxwell returned from the party. It was what he did most days, anyway, so settling on the couch like this was at least following the behaviour he had shown for years.

"And like you said, one day I might get to go to the market with you, so that's something to look forward to. I don't need to go out to parties, it's probably not a good experience. You come back all exhausted and... nah. I'm fine here-- and you're never going to just leave and abandon me, right? So there's no need for me to worry and get jealous, it's silly. I would like new clothes though. Something... cool, maybe?"
 
"Something cool? You always look cool," he defended with a snort of disbelief as he took another sip of his tea. "You could walk into a room wearing a burlap sack and I'd still think you were handsome, so no need to look 'cool'... besides, why do you care? Have you found someone online or something? 'Cuz I don't think you need to impress anyone," he praised casually before deciding to at least get up to get honey from the kitchen. He was feeling a tad better - good enough to walk to the kitchen without accidentally bashing his nose into the wall - so it was a good sign.

"I mean, I'll try my best if I can," he reassured as he moved to snatch the honeybear bottle, pouring a good amount into the tea with a soft hum. "Like I said, I think you look perfect on your own. I might be biased, though~" He teased with a coo before the sound of a spoon clinking against the mug could be heard. Making his way back to the couch, he took a seat beside the other and offered a smile.
 
Even though he was pretty confident in the clothes he was given to wear, Ricky's words had affected him just a little. He wanted to make a good impression, mostly because he wanted to take the attention away from him and piss him off a little. He was told to make a good impression, and it would be a bonus if he could do that and be the star of the party; that would be great. He also wanted to do that whilst being himself, and changing into some modern outfit accepted by the teenagers at parties wasn't... him.

"...No, you're right. You're always right. I like my clothes the way they are, I think they're cool," he determined truthfully, smiling to himself as he pulled the sleeves of his sweater down. He was sure that turning up like this would annoy Ricky, but that wasn't a negative; the man was an asshole and pissing him off was far more amusing than making him happy.
 
“Plus they’re comfy. I can tell you one thing, I’d much prefer to wear comfy sweats than stuffy jeans but... I guess it’s just weird to wear sweatpants out these days,” he explained with a nervous laugh as he tapped his nails on the mug.

“I don’t think you need to change, you’re perfect,” he whispered with a soft blush before covering his cheeks with the mug. “You’re handsome and funny, that’s what matters. Just - don’t change for anyone.”
 
"I'm handsome and funny. You don't think I'm just a nobody?" He queried slowly, his eyes staring at the TV just so he didn't give away how serious the question was. He didn't want to hear Maxwell start interrogating him about the question that was clearly out of the blue for him. He had never displayed any insecurity before, because he hadn't actually been in public to feel judgement before. One experience with Ricky brought it all on him. All of a sudden, he wasn't sure how confident he was in himself and it wasn't a good feeling. Seeking some sort of reassurance was normal, even though he didn't want to get a lecture about why he was feeling that way.

"I mean, I... am sort of nobody. Nobody knows I exist besides you, Maxwell. I could die and only you'd be affected by it. That's... sad, isn't it? Without attaching emotion to this, I am a nobody-- right? Is that what it means?"
 
"Who else matters?" He asked casually as his eye slowly wandered to land on Milo, his brows slowly raising in suspicion. "Why? Milo, you're the only person that really matters to me. Sure, there are people out there that I spend time with but they aren't you. You're sort of scaring me, to be honest..." he admitted with a lighthearted laugh, though his sharp and clearly concerned gaze proved otherwise.

"We're both nobodies, yeah? Just... stop talking about death, please. I've heard enough of that word for a hot minute and it isn't helping with my hangover," he murmured, his eye immediately shooting back to the television as he watched the rerun of Maury, the good mood he felt whenever watching it being completely put to waste. "Why does it matter, anyway?"
 
"It doesn't matter, I was just wondering. I heard it off some TV show and... I felt like it applied to me, that's all. Is it so bad that I want to educate myself? I don't know what it meant, maybe it was a strange positive thing? You humans have weird sayings that contradict each other sometimes, I wasn't to know," he shrugged casually, smiling and laughing it off. It didn't make him anymore confident, really, despite Maxwell's insistence that they were both the same. Maxwell had a thriving party life and a large social circle, so it didn't make sense to Milo that he described himself as a 'nobody'. He didn't understand many of the intricacies of socialising, but pushing it further and asking about it was hardly the relaxing conversation the hungover Maxwell needed.

"...I might make some pasta later? That's your favourite thing to eat when you come back drunk. I'll make some spaghetti and garlic bread and it'll be nice and hot when you get back. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's cooking-- I have your Mom to thank for that," he beamed, knowing just the mention of his cooking would be enough to distract Maxwell from the strange conversation before it. He had no intention of cooking, but mentioning it would at least evade suspicion. "I just want to make you happy and do things for you, that's... literally all I want."
 
“I don’t want you to feel obligated, though. Like... you’ve been doing a lot for me lately, yeah?” He replied, though his stomach did growl at the thought of one of his favorite meals. It was so simple and easy yet something about it still made his mouth water - Maxwell was never one for fine dining, evidently. Hell, when his mother had brought home filet mignon for the family one night, Maxwell flat out refused to have more than one bite and instead demanded for a PBJ sandwich when they were children.

While he was much more exploratory with his palate, and while he can appreciate when good food is given to him, he’d much prefer to simply relax with some pizza to share with Milo. Simple things always seemed better, in his opinion, so why complicate food?
 
"I do a lot for you because I'm in a position to actually help you. I couldn't do a lot when I was sick, could I?" He pointed out, placing his hands behind his head and his feet up on the stool to try and give off the relaxed vibe. In reality, he was planning everything out in his head; about how he would manage to follow Maxwell to the party without being caught out. He was going to be found out eventually when they were together at the same party, but he figured that nothing could be done about it when he was there. However, Maxwell could always turn back if he caught him following him and that'd be the end of the plan altogether.

After a few hours of doing nothing, making out he was planning to do that all night, Milo waited patiently for the other to get ready and head off, ushering him out the door with a relaxed grin. Only when he left did he kick into action, waiting a few seconds before taking the spare key he had pocketed hours ago to head out after Maxwell. It wasn't a very sophisticated plan, but following behind at a distance was the only real plan he had.

The walk itself hadn't been that long, but he still held back from entering the house to collect himself together. This was a huge deal for him, after all. Interacting with Ricky was bad enough, but to be in a crowded house with music blaring was like jumping straight into the deep end - but he had wanted it for a while now. He wanted to be in this environment to feel a little normal, so after gathering himself together, he made the rest of the distance to the front door, managing to get in with just a flashed smile. He had come up with a story about who he was and how he was invited, assuming that the person opening the door to him might be wary, given he was a stranger, but a smile seemed to be enough for him to be welcomed in with a happy smile in return.

Within seconds, he was handed a plastic cup filled with something strong and told to 'relax' and 'chill', which clearly he wasn't going to do easily. The experience was overwhelming, and his first instinct was to seek out Maxwell to get some comfort... but this early into the party, he feared the other might just drag him home. Instead, he decided to find a quiet corner to sit in, sipping at the vodka surprisingly easily and simply waiting for a chance to interact with someone. Until then, he was happy just observing the party kicking off around him.
 
While Maxwell wasn’t the spitting image of someone who attended parties, he certainly had collected a few friends over time thanks to Ricky. So, with his own red cup, he himself seemed to spend most of his time in a corner with a small group of girls, chatting about something though the music was too loud to really hear.

Ricky wandered up to Milo first, taking in the alien critically. Taking a sip of his coke and rum, he offered a feigned smile and a nudge to his arm. Milo hadn’t taken his advice, he noticed, though chose to save his critiques towards him for later.

“I’m glad you showed up,” he commented over the loud music. “I’m surprised you aren’t with your cousin. What, are you embarrassed by him? Or is it the other way around?” He pondered before offering a chuckle. “You won’t make any friends just staying in the corner the whole time, you realize that, right?”
 
If there was one advantage of drinking the pure vodka, it was the surprising confidence it gave him. His previous meeting with Ricky hadn't gone brilliantly, and the overriding emotion had been nervousness. He found himself being judged by the man, and he could pretend that it hadn't bothered him, but it definitely had. The alcohol, however, made him far less worried about the perceptions of him. He was perfectly confident in how he was dressed and how he was sitting by himself. In fact, he was quite enjoying just observing everyone having fun around him, though that enjoyment did come to an end when Ricky approached.

"Have you been patiently waiting for me to arrive just to make fun of me? I'm glad I made an impression on you at least. You can deny it, but I've been here three minutes and you've made a beeline to talk to me. You're quite obsessive," he smirked from his seat, licking a little alcohol from his lips. He didn't really believe anything he was saying, but if it pissed Ricky off a little, it was well worth it.

"You're really quite short, aren't you? I didn't realise before," he taunted as he got to his feet. He had a serious height advantage over most people at the party, if not all of them. He had been aware that he was tall when noticing how much he had grown compared to Maxwell, but only when he came to the party did he realise just how tall he was. In reality, height was hardly something he cared about, but, assuming Ricky liked to think he was so perfect, it was at least funny to him to get to his feet and smirk down at him. "It's your party, you should go mingle with everyone, not worry about what I'm doing. I'm happy sitting back and relaxing, I'm not so obsessed with my reputation that I need to talk to everyone. You do you, I'll do me."
 
“Of course I’ve been waiting. If you’re the last remaining family of someone I care deeply for, I don’t think it’s a surprise to want to make sure you’re safe and comfortable. That’s what a guest should do.” He replied simply, seemingly unaffected by the other’s words. Sure, he wasn’t particularly tall compared to Milo but he was the star football player, so that at least spoke for something.

“You look... comfortable. I see that Max didn’t help you dress into something proper? Or was it the fact that he didn’t invite you?” He continued curiously before glancing over to the oblivious Maxwell. ”Well, I’ll tell him you arrived safely. He seems like the kind of person to be protective of you.”
 
"You can go ahead and tell him, but it'll ruin his night and he'll probably drag me home, so you won't spend that time with someone you care so deeply about. But hey, go and do that if you want. I'm not causing anyone trouble sitting here, but if you want to cause some, go and bring him over," he shrugged, taking a seat back down to emphasise the fact he was happy staying out of it all. He didn't really want his night ruined by Maxwell's anger, but he wasn't going to show that to Ricky. The man would be like a dog with a bone, pressing him into answering why he looked so desperate to keep Maxwell at bay. He'd rather act calm to not give him any satisfaction.

"I just want to enjoy myself," he repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing back in on the man above him. "You're ruining my night, which I'm sure you're taking pleasure in. Can't you just go away?"
 
“... of course.” Ricky replied after a pause, his smile never leaving his face as he took another sip of his drink and headed right back to Maxwell. The lighting was dim, though it was bright enough to see the eager smile and blush on Maxwell’s face when Ricky seemingly said something and absently wrapped an arm around Maxwell’s hips. This night was supposed to be the one where he managed to actually score but Milo was just too interesting to really ignore.

It wasn’t until Maxwell followed Ricky’s trail to see someone who looked eerily like Milo. He waived it off, though, and assumed that he had definitely locked the door with his key.
 
It didn't necessarily bother him when he glanced across to see Ricky getting close to Maxwell. He finally seemed to get the message that Ricky's intentions weren't strictly platonic, but he didn't think it was necessarily his place to get involved. Besides, with his lack of understanding about the social world outside his home, he didn't want to start interjecting without having that full knowledge. For all he knew, that closeness was a perfectly normal scenario among friends.

Hell, the interactions he had had with a few people seemed to consolidate that view. The more time that went by, he gradually grew more confident and began to at least venture out to top his cup up. Inevitably, he began to talk to people and every interaction seemed to end up with someone getting close to him, much in the same way Ricky was with Maxwell. He didn't understand that it was flirtatious. For all he knew, this was... normal.

So, assuming that it was perfectly normal, he had little concern in getting comfortable with a girl he had met and seemed to get along well with. He wasn't so naive that he hadn't seen people kiss before, but it had been on TV and never seemed that real. To go from that level of inexperience to suddenly have a cute girl on his lap kissing him was... strange. But, given the fact he hadn't squirmed away or given any excuse to leave, he was pretty into it.

At least until he finally spotted Maxwell. He had actively avoided bumping into him all the night, but there was no avoiding him when he was stood a few feet away from where Milo was sitting. He couldn't even rush out even if he wanted to - he didn't know the way back to the house. And really? He didn't want to stop kissing the girl he was with and cut his enjoyment short. Instead, he chose to simply... pretend he wasn't stood near him, hoping to go undiscovered for a few more minutes at the least.
 
Even in his drunken state, Maxwell wasn’t an idiot. Locking eyes with Milo now, his assumption was true. Not only was Milo at a party outside of their home but also heavily making out with some... some Slut? To say he was angry was an understatement. Apologizing to Ricky, he made no time into attempting to ‘casually’ wander over to Milo, clear anger radiating off of him.

“What... what the fuck are you doing here?!” He snapped over the music, all the color now drained from his face. “Milo - Milo, we’re leaving. I can’t fucking - how did you get out? Why did you get out?! I-I told you that we would take things slow - and who the fuck is this? I... I’m fucking livid!” He continued. Maxwell wasn’t an angry person, nor got upset easily. This was probably the first time he had ever shown so much anger, and a small part of it was from heartbreak. He was too naive to really understand Ricky’s motivation of getting close, and it only somewhat hindered his feelings for Milo. To see him just kidding some random woman was infuriating and... upsetting.
 
"...Her name's Georgia and she's a new friend I made. It's nothing you weren't close to doing with your good friend Ricky over there, so stop the judgemental bullshit. I got bored and I decided that I didn't really need to listen to you, so I headed out after you. I don't think it's a huge problem, I'm not, you know, causing a scene, and nobody knows anything they shouldn't know about me. Your asshole friend thinks we're cousins, though. You might not want to get this angry at me because it's coming off as weird," the alien responded after a long moment of thinking what to say in reply to him. He felt a slight twinge of guilt, but as soon as it arrived, it left. What did he have to feel guilty about? If anything, he thought Maxwell should be the one feeling guilty for having allowed his parents to impose house arrest on Milo for all these years.

It should be celebrated that he was out and fitting in surprisingly well. He wasn't causing any scenes, and nobody knew he wasn't human like them.

"I'm not leaving yet, I'm having a good time-- you should be happy that I'm fitting in with people here. It's better than me feeling like an outcast, isn't it? Or would you prefer me to be shut in the house where we can't have fun together like this? You're stressing out about... about nothing."
 
“I’m stressing out because you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, Milo! You... You don’t know anything! I-I wanted to ease into all of this, I told you that! I’m fucking - I should just let you fuck everything up, get in trouble and you’ll see the consequences, huh? I’m not going to because I care about you, s-so... so we’re going home. Now.” He firmly demanded. While more often than not, Maxwell was someone to just accept things as they are but this was different. He was put in charge of keeping Milo safe and he was going to at least enforce that safety... despite his eye becoming ready.

“We’re going to go home and we’re going to fucking talk about this - get the fuck off of him,” he hissed, tugging Georgia off without real care. “I-I don’t care if this looks weird. W-Why wouldn’t you listen to me?” He babbled on while running his hands through his hair to try and calm himself down.
 
"And why do you think you can boss me around? I'm having fun, I... I'm not going back home until I'm done here, so quit yelling at me before I lose my patience. How about I lock you in the same fucking house for more than ten years? Then you can start speaking to me about this. You don't get it, you never will get it, so fuck off home and I'll be back when I'm done," he hissed beneath his breath, though his voice still seemed to carry some weight over the loud music; enough for Maxwell to hear what he was saying, at least.

Silently watching the girl saunter off angrily, he frowned and folded his arms to try and act like he was okay, but he wasn't. It wasn't fair that his enjoyment was cut short with someone, when he had been perfectly respectful leaving Ricky and Maxwell get close... even though he knew for a fact that Ricky was a complete asshole.

"...You should spend more time worrying about your best buddy than worrying about me. He's a... what's the word... he's a prick, he threatened me. I don't like him, but you don't see me storming over when you were getting up close to him. Because I'm not a selfish bastard like you."
 
“When did he threaten you? Tonight, or have you snuck out before? ‘Cuz I checked my phone not that long ago and it looks like you managed to meet up with him. How? Oh, I know - you snuck out. So not only did you not listen to me, you lied to me! Don’t fucking dare take the moral high ground here, Milo. Why don’t you understand that I’m trying to fucking protect you? Do you not care? Do you not care about me?” He scoffed before folding his own arms.

“If you were honest with me and told me he was a jerk to you, I would have done something.... though you weren’t supposed to find out whether he was a jerk or not anyway! You know what? No. I’ll stay the whole night right next to you. I’m sure people will think you’re super cool then, huh?”