“The Nutcracker!” Farrah piped up, hands animatedly running circles in the air between him and Cyrus, caught between wanting to hide again and needing to fidget for all the excess embarrassed energy he still felt. “I was talking about The Nutcracker, the Tchaikovsky ballet.. not- not.. ooohhhh, you’re such a troll!!” He knew Cyrus was just riling him up as always, teasing him, but each and every time he fell for it head-first anyway.

He just didn’t learn, and it usually ended in laughter that saw all his temporary shame forgotten. Even when it did go too far, Farrah could never stay mad at Cyrus for long before they made up again. It was just the nature of their friendship, he supposed.

All this panicking had made his scarf come loose, so he reached up to adjust it until it sat snug around his neck again. An excuse to calm down, at least enough to give a soft snort when he focused back on Cyrus. “I’ll get you a pair of devil horns and a tail, to match your devious mood today! Can’t believe you’d tease your dear dear friend like this, and after I fed you!?” He laid it on thick with the melodrama, chuckling in between words. “The audacity.. fine, fiiiiine.. but I’m calling you when I have to go pee at 4am and need someone to chaperone me to the bathroom cuz I got scared!!! you and Caleb both.”

Delicately shaped brows furrowed together into another one of Farrah’s classical looks of utter disbelief. Cyrus? stop teasing? “Uh-huh..” He muttered, but the faith was not present. Just as well to convince him pigs had started flying and the moon was made of cheese. No, his friend was merely waiting for another opportunity to catch him off-guard, of that Farrah was certain.

“You’ll narrowly escape the horns then, narrowly, but I demand you wear a tail with whatever else you had planned!” If he thought about it, at least the costume part was exciting. As a dancer he enjoyed dressing up, and Halloween was no exception. “Do you have a costume plan yet? What about Caleb? Do you know?” Farrah’s head was a whirlwind of ideas, from ballet related to cartoons. It had to be easy to put together on short notice, interesting and easily recognizable. Not too simple either, which meant Nani was out. A pair of shorts and a crop-top could have been anyone.

Maybe something with a high neck so he could mute his future screams. “if the lights go out, you’re not allowed to leave without me either!!! .. Promise? Thennnn.. if it's just us three, I guess it’s okay..“ Caleb would surely not tease him for being a total coward, and Cyrus would tease him even if he was the bravest boy in the world. Between the two of them, he was safe.

Gods, he did not want to go though. What if he fainted? What if it was really scary? What if it included small tight spaces? A shudder went down Farrah’s spine despite all his layers. “Do you think they’ll have any small spaces? I’m claustrophobic..” Even though he was whining about it, Farrah had mostly accepted this as his fate now. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Cyrus, except maybe kiss a toad.

“You know french maids usually dress in black and white, right? Are you sure you can survive the lack of neon?” Farrah was not sure he could imagine Cyrus in anything that wasn’t retina-burning bright, like every deviantart furry OC had been smashed together into an unholy amalgamation of a rainbow, and then sprinkled with a few more colors just for the fun of it. Of course Cyrus made it work somehow. One of the nine miracles of the school, really. Or just the perk of being generally attractive- they did say something about good looking people and making even trash bags look alright.

He couldn’t help but to snort, and lightly slap his hand on top of Cyrus’ knee. “Maybe invest in a bright green cat’s tail, just so we know you haven’t been replaced by a monochrome alien.” Some people just had a staple look, and anything other than that was so jarring they might as well be a whole new person. That was Cyrus and looking like a walking disco light.

It was a little comforting even, seeing a vivid pop of color in a crowd. Farrah had probably developed a Pavlovian calming response to the exact shade of green and yellow that Cyrus’ favorite necklace had.

“Good, then you know what’s at stake- I’ll force move into your shared dorm room, and sleep on an air mattress on the floor if either of you abandon me in there.. and if I die, I will haunt you! That’s a promise, not a threat.” And it’d probably sound a lot more serious if his voice wasn’t partially muffled by how his cheek was squished against Cyrus’ side now, making it hard to speak clearly.

Farrah.. largely didn’t believe in ghosts. Or at least he didn’t want to believe in them, but by pure determination he’d come back and do poltergeist things to his friends if they let him die. It was no less than he’d expect in return, if the shoe had been on the other foot.