i was riding in a black jeep wrangler with a whole bunch of people (about 20... waaay more than can fit), including celeste. the road we were on is blocked off because of a block party, which seems to be in our honor (that is, those who rode in the wrangler). all sorts of colored balloons and confetti were falling straight from the sky for some reason. celeste asked me if i'd get her a particular type of balloon from off the street. she wanted one of the yellow-gold ones, from what i could discern. these balloons were fewer in number, and were covered in small paragraphs. i could not read the words. the first and second one i found popped when i touched them because i had to squeeze them really tight in order to pick them up. the third one resisted my pressure and i retrieved it for her after attempting to read the balloon writing.

...

i'm in someone's house. it reminds me of my friend graig's old house, but the ceilings are higher and it's cold and unfamiliar. i am dimly aware that this house belongs to someone related to some underground organization like the mafia. my roommate from school is there, and he walks through the kitchen to where i'm sitting at some table by myself. the lights are off and it's overcast, judging from the little amount of natural light filtering in. he tells me his cellphone has no signal in the house. i notice my beeper doesn't, either. i have a small twinge of panic as i realize tricia or my mother could've been attempting to get in touch with me. he suggests we go back outside to the block party so we can get signals, but i say we can't, because i know we can't leave this house.