Desmond had high-music pouring into his ears for the entire journey, never once did he remove those little piecees of plastic from his ears. TM Revolution's Hot Limit pounded his eardrums, canceling out every single sound for the entire flight. When the plane landed, he collected his baggage and found the man promptly. He paused, glancing briefly at the man with a half-lidded gaze, taking in his body language and personality.<br/><br/>The boy snorted at the change in music, tapping his fingers at a furious pace as he waited for the man to give the all-clear. When the man gave the instructions, Desmond did not hear what he said, instead, he read the man's lips, and followed him quickly, looking behind and side to side analysing his peers. "Tch." Was the only comment, he was beginning to hate everything around him already.<br/><br/>A gust of wind sliced his pallid face. He snarled mentally but his face remained like a mask as he looked at the boy who rolled the windows down disdainfully. He attempted to radiate as much hatred of the world to the inhabitants of the car. However, his silent efforts seemed to go unoticed.<br/><br/>The Ipod notified him that it's battery was nearly dry. With a sigh, he turned the player off and rolled up the wires into a neat roll. He drummed his finger throughout the entirety of the drive. The others were silent, and he wondered would they stay in this peaceful and orderly manner for long before getting all rowdy and get on his nerves.<br/><br/>His eyes snapped open when the car rolled to a halt. Silence. Then, the doors opened and everyone piled up on the ashalt. Waiting for someone to address them.