So, actually, I'll have to say, the demon guy in my dream wasn't ugly. He was moderate looking with platinum blond hair. Perhaps this all started with me using my ouija board and talking to a "demon" like a week ago. I dunno, but still. It was a pretty cool.
Anyway, I was at this party in this mansion with my friends. While they were on the second floor (which is just stairs and a walking part thingy that went around the room above the first floor, you know, like at some malls?), I was on the first floor, trying to figure out where I am. I seemed to be the only person concerned about where we were.
As I was looking around the place, and after I was at the food table talking to somebody random, I ran into the demon guy. He was all dressed up in a tuxedo--and I wasn't, I was just dressed like I normally would: jeans, t-shirt/tank top and hoodie, except I was wearing heels, which I would probably trip in, I have awful balance--anyway, he freaked me out for some reason, so I ran into a side room that looked like an entrance to blockbuster and a restaurant.
I was all sweaty and disgusting and the dude was there, sweet-talking me. He followed me outside and we started walking around the building on the sidewalk. The parking lot was like a gas station's, it was night, and there were city lights all around us like there would be at night, the shopping center was like, right across the street; I could see it.
As we walked, I started calming down, he introduced himself, talked about why I was here, and explained why he brought me to freaking Hell with him. Apparently, he was lonely, saw me one day, and started liking me.
Me, repulsed by the idea, I ignore it. But for some reason, I felt that I would feel awful if I rejected him because of that damn look on his face and the way his voice sounded when he was talking about the lonliness he felt...I could compare, so, as my natural self, I felt terrible. We walked back inside after some time of talking, and we were holding hands and my friends started yelling at me. He looked at me like, mesmorizingly and . . .
. . . Then I woke up.

I don't really get the point of my dream:
Why a demon?
Why'd my friends scream at me? They didn't seem to care when I was by myself.
Was there a reason for me sweating? It was warm in the room and I hardly ran. =/
Do colors in a dream matter?