Alex.

And he looks...God he looks perfect. Henry's smile broadens as he takes it all in.

Alex is indeed clothed in the promised burgundy suit- the velvet bringing out the faint traces of colour along his cheekbones. His curls are tousled and his eyes sparkling- from dancing or drinking, Henry can't tell.

Whichever it is, he doesn't care- doesn't think he has it in him to care when Alex shoves closer to him through the crowd, grabs his arm and shouts over the clamour of voices.

"Nice tie." Henry laughs and nudges Pez triumphantly, who rolls his eyes and gives him a knowing smile back.

"Thought I might be escorted off the premises for anything less exciting." Out of the corner of his eye he sees Pez snort, and Henry elbows him in warning, but Pez's gaze is already fixed to a point somewhat to the side of Alex- his eyes are practically glued to June. He's about to open his mouth and probably embarrass himself when Alex's sister beats him to it.

"And who is this?" Pez practically swoons, and now it's Henry's turn to snort and stifle a laugh. Pez flips him a rude gesture and Henry forces back the laughter to choke out.

"Ah yes, you've not officially met, have you? June, Alex, this is my best mate, Percy Okonjo."

"Pez, like the sweets," Henry sighs at Pez, who widens his eyes as if to say 'what?' He wonders how Pez's cheeks aren't burning right now- how he can act so cool and calm when inside he's probably screaming. And because Pez isn't blushing, Henry does it for him.

The crimson spreading steadily along the back of his neck only deepens as Pez unhelpfully adds:

"Please do smack me if this is out of line, but you are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen in my life, and I would like to procure for you the most lavish drink in this establishment if you will let me." Alex's mouth practically hangs open, but June smiles indulgently, offering him a hand with the air of a queen- though she's absolutely nothing like Henry's grandma.

"You're a charmer." She laughs. Pez only grins back at her.

"And you are a goddess."

The two of them disappear into the crowd, Pez blatantly obvious in his floral bomber jacket, and June twirling around him expertly, a swatch of midnight blue in a roiling sea of dancers. At least one of the two of them has been successful in the romance department, Henry thinks morosely.

He straightens and pins a smile on his face, the crowd of bodies parting enough for him to slip through and get closer to Alex. People stream past them on all sides, recognising Alex at least enough to leave them a small pocket of space where Henry can finally breathe properly. He fills his lungs and feels a warm spark settle in the pit of his stomach as Alex turns to him with a broad, lazy grin that he returns gladly- not faking it now.

"That man has been begging me to introduce him to your sister since the wedding."

"Seriously?" Pez had talked about June practically every second, but Henry hadn't really listened to him. He'd been too caught up in his own feelings. His own depressing love story. He'd picked up a few phrases, though- it was impossible not to, really, when Pez was yelling in your ear about a 'goddess divine' and all the things he'd like to do to her. Henry had nearly thrown up at some of Pez's suggestions for the latter, and he's definitely not about to share them with Alex.

He nods gravely.

"We've probably just saved him a tremendous amount of money. He was going to start pricing skywriters soon." Alex laughs, head tipped back, and the spark in his stomach turns into a raging wildfire.

"Well, come on. I'm already two whiskeys in. You've got some catching up to do." Henry grins. For some reason, the prospect of getting very, very drunk with Alex is incredibly appealing right now.

And so they both get very, very drunk, and Henry smiles so wide his mouth begins to hurt.

***

Henry's abrupt crash-landing back in reality comes when a girl he vaguely recognises as from one of the new Spider-Man movies begins an aggressive come on to Alex, who only reddens and ducks hurriedly out of the way. Henry's face falls and the warmth inside of him turns quickly to cold ice- a storm of jealousy swirling inside. Then Alex glances back at him, apologetic, and Henry forces a smile to his face- surprised to find it come easily for once.

When it's finally time for the countdown, they all link arms- Henry ends up squashed between Alex and June, and he can't say he dislikes the experience. Alex's face is flushed, his hair wild and speech slurred, but he drains one final glass as they all shout as one.

3, 2, 1...

He grins and tips his head back and laughs, feeling it fill him from the inside. And for the first time, Henry feels...whole.

As he stares at Alex- unable to help himself and distantly realising that he must be very drunk indeed- he feels whole.

Like he's where he's supposed to be.

Like he belongs somewhere for once.

And right now, he feels as though he could tell Alex that.

He wouldn't judge him. He wouldn't laugh at him or brush him off. Alex would listen to him. Henry's sure of it, and he almost laughs out loud again at the realisation that right now- at this moment- he could tell him that. He could say what he liked, and no one would care.

It's a giddy feeling, and, mixed with the lingering taste of whiskey and champagne on his tongue, it overwhelms him and sweeps him away in a flood. Henry opens his mouth, emotions crowding at his throat, about to break loose, but then he stops.

His insides turn to ice.

He stares.

He stares at Alex- kissing Nora. She ruffles his hair and he smiles against her lips, and Henry feels something inside him crack.

He tips his head back and empties his glass, sets it heavily down on a table and finds himself drifting towards the less-crowded edges of the room.

And Henry feels hollow again. Like his emotions have been torn open and bared to the world, and now there's nothing left inside of him except silence. Dreadful, tortuous silence.

Some vital part of him has been shattered; his hope. His stupid, naïve hope that someday, Alex would notice him, would...would someday love him back.

Henry knew it was impossible, from the moment he set eyes on him. He knew it was a doomed love. A tragic story. But he allowed himself to hope, and that hope has ruined him. He allowed himself to cling onto a tiny fragment of an impossible future, and now he's drowning in the hard, unyielding truth of reality.