<div class="floatleft">(http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff7/HaruTokushima/Realistic%20Chars/Dominic/4b00b84ad3653_zps3c3a406e.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Logan Falk<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Room 106A<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>No one, open<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Writing, getting ready, leaving<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>SWAT (http://www.spirithalloween.com/product/uw-swat-officer-kit-adult-os/)<br/><hr/><br/>Guys talked loudly in the hall. That and the paper thin walls made their words decipherable, if someone paid attention. Logan didn't have a reason to, but their voices lifted him out of his head. The scent of recent rain faded, the quiet city street, the beam of light the streetlamp cast on the man in camo, his young face aged and his eyes tired. The white page welcomed him back, his barely legible scrawl scratched on it in black ink, and the guys grew quieter as they went further down the hall. They were heading toward the lobby. What time was it? Logan turned his head to where his phone rested as it recharged. He checked it. The party was starting.<br/><br/>Logan considered his notebook once more, skimming the words. The poem wasn't complete. It lacked...something, and maybe needed a new word here and there. He lightly wrapped his lips around the tip of his pen, thinking, but his attention wandered back to his phone. Its screen was blank again, but the white digits still existed in his mind's eye. Maybe the revisions could wait until later tonight, after his roommate was asleep if need be. He preferred the moments of privacy, like right now, when no one was around to distract him or pry. His roommate had left about an hour ago. Logan had been working on his homework, and he rushed through it so he could write. Continuing to take advantage of whatever alone time he had left would be useful, but it wouldn't hurt to be social, either, hang out with his friends and see their costumes. Ultimately, the latter option won. Logan pushed his notebook into his desk's drawer and stood from his bed. Time to get ready.<br/><br/>Normally, or at least what was normal for the past few years, he didn't really try for Halloween. Freshman year, he was a baseball player, then football, and then he wore his paintball gear and left it at that. He thought about doing that again this year, but Sean bitched and moaned as usual, and this time Logan decided to listen--kind of. His step-brother still wouldn't approve because it was far from terrifying, unless you were a crook, but at least he was going as something a little different. It was his last year of high school. Why not? Logan stepped over to his dresser where his costume still slept in its package. After exchanging his jeans for cargos, and his white t-shirt for black, he put on the vest, the knee pads, the pouch, the hat. He even got a badge and plastic handcuffs to go with it--silly, but it worked. Once the gloves and boots were on, too, he briefly looked in the mirror. Everything was in place, and he almost felt strong. No way would he ever be a real SWAT, but the pretend might be nice. He would enjoy wearing this for a while. Even the plastic badge and handcuffs.<br/><br/>After pocketing his phone and turning off his desk lamp, Logan left the room and headed toward the building's exit. The student union was his next destination.