Party People

23:15

People kept spilling in through the front door despite it already being an hour past the start time of the party. Cheesy Halloween music bleared throughout the dimmed horror house as guests filled the bottom floor and loitered against the balcony of the second. Everything looked great - better than the women had planned. Even the troublesome ghost streamers that had refused to stick to the ceiling that afternoon were now firmly laced around the ground floor and leading up the grand stairway. Earlier, Selene and Corrina had moved the breakable pieces of furniture to the far ends of the study and locked the door to leave even more room for tacky rubber skeletons, fake cobwebs and a smoking, dry-ice buffet table between the two sets of patio doors in the main room.

Selene had done her second round of patrolling the place, introducing herself to the people who'd turned up - The majority of them being the younger locals from town and the University forty-five minute’s drive away. Most of those she'd met were nice enough and had commented about her risqué pin-up Frankenstein’s Bride in a French maid's which showed off her feminine curves and the ink-work covering a good portion of her thighs and arms. Some of the guests even noted the history of the newly bought home; some of them not being able to help themselves with the relaying of the local legends about the cursed grounds Selene and her friend now lived on. Selene didn't believe a word of it. They were drunk and it was Halloween. It was prime real estate to terrify the newbies.

Weaving her way around a cluster of girls standing in the elaborate foyer, a large and highly contorted bunny head appeared from the kitchen with a triangle of home-made green quiche in one hand. It wasn't one of those comically-bad plastic masks - It was more along the lines of a deformed Watership Down rabbit and Frank from Donnie Darko. It was actually quite terrifying with its googly, clouded eyes, mangled ears and crooked, humanoid teeth protruding from its ajar mouth. The rest of the body that the head belonged to was normal in comparison if you consider F-Cups stretching a tanktop and pale jeans so ripped they might as well not exist normal. J-rock hoodie rolled up at the sleeves and left open to showcase an array of ink-work spanning across her upper chest, forearms, and some of her neck, the rabbit sneaked the food under the unstable grotesque head. With biker boots left half untied and a bottle of Jack Daniels in her left hand, the woman looked like some kind of Manson-Freud brainchild.

The figure stopped in front of the kinky redhead. The oddity tilted its head to the left slowly without saying anything and then continued walking through the dim halls with nothing but a mock two-finger salute which resulted in an assault of bits of flying quiche crust. Selene downed her own drink from the red plastic cup in her hand. Shaking her head in knowing, she strut through the crowd, from the same direction which the seemingly seven-foot grey bunny had come from.

As people passed through the scarcely lit hallway, a blond male in a tight white t-shirt and fitted high waist jeans came down from the landing of the second floor. He'd been watching the barely intelligent conversations of the drunk masses as the red-haired home-owner interacted with her guests. He'd also noticed the female with the obscure costume wandering around giving no more than silent, unnerving stares to people who dared to acknowledge her. Skipping down off the last step, the blond guest squeezed past his peers as the bass pounded. He was never much for these kinds of get-togethers, but his friends had literally dragged him along. Since he was here, he may as well try to strike a conversation with those who would be likely to see more than most. And so, he followed the stranger who had caught his eye.

 

23:40

The older home-owner had found herself something to do in the form of a college student dressed oh-so-originally as a Zombie footballer - In actual fact, he just looked like a jock who'd spilt tomato ketchup down his face after a messy Saturday night. Nevertheless, they had gone to the back of the house and into the solarium that hadn't been cleared out yet. The only illumination came from the flashing lights of the surrounding rooms shining outside and casting through the cracked glass encasing them. Sparse prismatic light laced the knocked over plant pots, cracked tiles and trashed wicker furniture. The young brunet had made short work of the female’s hoodie, hoping it would loosen her up and get her to shed her other layers - or more to the point, that mask which creeped him the fuck out. Pushed against the peeling paint of the only brick wall, the woman's mind wandered as her company pressed himself against her and nipped at her collarbone. Pausing his groping at the lack of response, the male half of the pair furrowed his brows, unable to keep the mood up.

"Why are you still wearing that stupid bunny suit?"

A few seconds of ignorance passed, but the blonde eventually responded. Craning her head back against the wall, the rest of her remaining still, Corrina stared at the jock through the mask. Grey, frosted glass eyes distorted her vision even more than the hit of the bong she'd been passed twenty minutes ago. Heavy because of the costume, the woman’s head slid across the wall to the right, the weight of it making her sway as she shifted due to the damp making her back itch. "Why are you wearing that stupid man-suit?" The husky rebuttal escaped her slower than she’d intended.

Seemingly turned off by the odd costume - and entirely putt-off by the weird behaviour - the jock pointed at the obscure features staring at him. "Can't you take that mask off? It freaks me out."

"It's Halloween." Her voice remained rough, and her speech pattern delayed as she replied. “Isn’t that the point?”

"Forget it," the guy threw his hands up in a huff, "there are plenty of other sluts to hook up with." Stomping off around the door hanging on by a single hinge, he left the woman alone in the dark with her thoughts.

Inhaling the air thick with the smell of damp soil, the blonde relaxed her shoulders. Heavy bass from a change in music genre spread around the ground floor via blutooth speakers made it to where she was. Maybe this place was just like everywhere else; the company was no different, at least. A few moments passed of her doing nothing but staring (or at least, attempting to), out of the mosaic windows. Pushing the heavy fur-encased head back from her face, the blonde inhaled the air laden with the stink of cold autumn and tried to focus on the unusual space with its arched and glass panelled windows and ceiling, the assortment of plants left to wither and dry up after their owners had left them behind. The scent of moss and moist night air seeping in through the broken square panes reminded her that her high was wearing off.

Taking her bunny head off completely, Corrina placed it on the three-legged pruning table to her right and then pulled a small silver case from her pocket. Popping it open, the female took a pre-rolled joint and put it to her lips, lighting the end and taking a deep breath of the thick herbal smoke. The pungent smell of her home-grown remedy brought back the feeling of calm and carelessness she was hoping for. Puffing on the end twice in quick succession and holding the toxicity in her lungs, the blonde began melting into the decaying barrier supporting her. Her thoughts were wandering, or just disappearing altogether, she couldn't tell which. She didn’t care much, either. She didn't even notice the shift of weight on the floorboards out in the corridor, only a mere yard away.

"Hello," a soft-spoken greeting floated through the darkness, causing the blonde to snap her head to the entrance by her left side. At least, she thought it was a snapping motion. It was intended to be a snapping motion.

Corrina got her eyes to focus on the man creeping at the threshold. He had pretty features despite wearing a blank expression, his tousled surfer-blond hair was slicked back off his face to replicate what appeared to be a staple style from the 1950's. Sniffling sharply, the female tilted her head in wonder. "What are you supposed to be, a greaser?"

The stoic look he had been giving melted into a gentle smile, causing a prominent dimple to form on his left cheek. "You're the first person to guess it."

Corrina's brow's raised in jest. "Ooh, get me." Nodding upwards as smoke flew from her nose, she asked. "What're ya doing down here, Jimmy?"

The man a few inches taller than her looked like he'd been pinched. "Jimmy?"

"James Dean," she said as she eyed him and pointed up and down at his get-up.

"Oh, my real name's Elliot. It's nice to meet you." The guest stepped into the destroyed room and extend his hand to show his manners. "You're the other lady that moved into here, aren't you? Your name's Corrina, isn't it?"

Quirking her brow, the blonde played. "A lady…that's debatable, but yeah." She flicked the end of her smoke on the floor and stood on it to put it out. "My friend and I got here a couple of days ago."

The young man wandered across the space, the debris crunching under his harness boots as he made for the bay window overlooking woodland that crescented the grass flank at the back of the house. "What made you choose here?"

Corrina watched him for a moment, or rather, his silhouette in front of the fragmented light. "It's out in the middle of nowhere, and cheap."

"Ever wondered why it was so cheap?" He glanced back over his shoulder and wagged his finger in motion for her to come over before going back to watching the nature outside sway ominously. "This place has a lot of history, you know?"

Dodging around the strewn plant pots and vandalized wicker loungers, the female asked. "Are you going to tell me ghost stories?"

Facing around, the man shook his head apologetically after misunderstanding her tone for one of worry. "Ah, I should have known better; you have to stay here."

Grinning, Corrina hopped over a fallen wheelie trolley and staggered forward. "I'm not scared of ghosts." Shuffling to her company's side, the female blinked at the surprising view.

The guest inspected the side of her face, trying to read the odd expression she wore. "Are you sure?"

She tried to take a drag on her vice only to be left wanting after she realized she had finished and tossed it. Taking a regular cigarette from her back pocket, she intended to light the end but her company had already beat her to it when he held up a flame. Eyebrows flickering as she nodded upwards in thanks, Corrina inhaled the first drag. "When I was a kid, I was told by my grandma that they can't hurt you if you tell them to go away."

Raising his right brow in clear disbelief, the man pursed his lips briefly. "Have you never seen any supernatural horror movie before?"

"On the contrary," she looked up and nodded. "I have a very expansive collection that I pride myself on."

Straight-faced, the guest mimicked the iconic line. "What's your favourite scary movie?"

Corrina snorted at the bad attempt at an impression, resulting in her choking on smoke. "Okay, Ghostface." Pouting her lips slightly as her eyes watered, the female hummed in thought. "The Exorcist - Original, of course...I was disturbed by Evil Dead." She took another drag with an unnerved shudder before holding up the cigarette to the man beside her only for him to shake his head. "Hostel and the likes I don't consider horror - it's straight-up gore-porn. But I do like horrors set in asylums and historical houses, even if they’re not scary."

"Would you ever go around an abandoned asylum?" He leaned against the wooden window frame with his left shoulder and hip as he watched the woman facing him.

Corrina's eyes lit up like a normal child's at Christmas. "I have, and would again." Excitement caught her only for reality to hit her. "Ah, I guess I get to live that every day now, though." She looked through the smeared, cracked glass to her right, her laughter causing her bust to jitter and the vintage 'sailor' tattoos to dance as if they were alive.

The man's brows knitted together. "You know about this place? Did you do much research?" Exhaling a cloud of condensation which merged into the pungent fumes the woman released from her nose, Elliot peered down at his hostess. Corrina glanced up, or at least that was the intention. Her company was closer than before, leaning towards her as he held out her vice as he stared at her face. "You should be careful around here."

 

23:55

In the study, Selene was well underway in drinking a group of four strangers - and herself - under that troublesome metaphorical table. Leaning on her side, the redhead sprawled out on the original French day lounger which she had yet to sample until right now. Right arm up on the armrest while her left hand held the lethally concocted drink she'd watched the very drunk man who'd taken over her kitchen as a cocktail-maker in order to impress a batch of girls fresh out of high school only a minute ago, the redhead sunk into the pumping of the music, throb of socializing bodies and the buzz of the chatter of cliques merging into a good time. The novelty music which had been playing at the start had changed to hardstyle house music and she'd no idea how. Nor at this point did she care. To her, at that precise moment, it could be legit magic for all she knew. The heavy thumping beat vibrated in her ears as her guests crammed into the room filled with smoke from the dry ice machine and marijuana, waving glow sticks as they danced around while blitzed out of their minds.

She didn't really take drugs - Or at least not as much as Corrina did - and at this moment, she didn't need to even if she wanted to. The familiar smell of weed floated around the thrashing bodies and made its way up her nose and there were clearly a handful of people in the corner throwing shapes who were well-too acquainted with Miss Molly. Before Selene could shrug herself into a sitting position, her legs were lifted up abruptly. A weight threw itself down on the lounger beside her and then her legs were put back down over firm thighs and a pair of arms resting over her shins. Selene blinked slowly, trying to focus on her new company in the flashing strobe lights one of her guests had brought along. She squinted to see past the misty atmosphere and the trippy, throbbing flashes and eventually made out that her interruption was a man. A classic from Lana changed the tone and her guests stopped jumping to grab a partner. Glowsticks were dropped to hip level while couples stuck to each other in lecherous inebriation.

Lounging back casually with a joint in one hand and a bottle of Tequila in the other, an Asian man dressed as a cop smiled at her. He was tall, even when sat down, and had a comfy lap (which in her mind was just as important as anything). "You're Selene, aren't you?" He leaned to his right, his chest resting on the side of her left hip so she could hear him. "I'm Leon." He had an unusual sound; his English was perfect, but he still had a tinge of an accent which somehow managed to break past his rough tone.

Selene peered up at the man half laying on her. And then she couldn't stop herself from staring at his beautiful face. "Nice to meet you." She nodded slowly as not to come across as the full-blown retard she felt like.

Holding up both his hands, Leon offered up his vices. "Want some?"

Oh, did she. Some of him, to be exact. Shaking the thought out of her head, Selene took the bottle from her new acquaintance and had a swig. Hissing a breath at the burn in the back of her throat, the redhead closed her eyes and licked her lips painted red. She felt Leon's weight shift and when she opened her eyes, he was even closer still. So close, in fact, that she could feel his hot breath brush against her face. So much so, that the strong stench of cannabis which had forced itself upon her had been overridden by his cologne.

Smouldering eyes partially obscured by the shadow of his hat bore into hers as he licked his full lips. Strong hands wandering up her thigh as the fake cop hummed a dirty pick-up line against the redhead’s left cartilage piercing. Craning his neck, Leon dared to tease the jaw of the girl he'd just met.

A call cut above the noise, "Leon." It wasn’t a feminine groan like he was hoping for.

The addressed drew back from the woman in his grasp, his face scrunched as if he'd just been jabbed with something sharp. "What?" He grumbled, not even looking up.

"Chase is here."

Scoffing, Leon twisted his head to glare at the man who had interrupted him. Easing up off the redhead, he spared an apologetic expression. "'You coming?"

“I would have been if you carried on.” Selene huffed as she sat up.

The cop stared for a moment before chuckling. “I think we’re going to get along.”

Swinging her legs off his lap and letting her heels clunk off the hardwood flooring, the redhead stood up. "Who's Chase?"

"Our friend. I think you should meet him. He’s Mister It-Guy around here so you’ll probably hear about him a lot as is." Standing beside the female, Leon straightened his police cap and put his arm around his conquest’s shoulder as he shepherded her out of the rave den. "Where are the others?" He asked the brunet who had interrupted him when they met by the door.

The young interruption jutted his thumb over his shoulder. "Alex is looking for Elliot. Theia and Lottie came with Chase; they gave Finn a ride too because the moron ran his bike into Mr Harrow’s fence last night." The brunet standing a little more than Leon’s six-foot height due to heeled booties waved his hands erratically.

“I bet he was spinning out again. That’s like the third time this month.” Leon rolled his eyes and cracked his neck to the right before giving Atticus a knowing look. "We best not keep His Highness waiting or else we’ll be in the shit, too."

Selene followed the two men through her house. She squinted at the newcomer’s back, wondering what he was supposed to be dressed as. He was graceful even while wearing high heels and avoiding the masses, and from what she could see through his mostly unbuttoned sheer black shirt and practically painted on pleather leggins, he was physically fit. He looked like a dancer you’d see in a work of art hung in an esteemed indie gallery with his structured facial features and Prince-esque hair style. Getting annoyed by not being able to pin her thoughts, she tapped his shoulder. "Who're you?"

Skittishly, the addressed flailed his arms. "I'm Atticus."

"No," Selene squinted at the man a fraction taller than her in her Iron Fist heels. "I meant, who are you dressed as?"

"Oh," Running a hand over the black touselled 'do' combed back from his face, the taller of the two males gave an award-winning smile. "I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.” Leon snorted a laugh and then held his hand up in a half-assed apology when his friend glowered at him. It was a touchy subject that was about to arise.

Selene was flabbergasted when the realization hit her. "You’re ‘Cheekbones’ from earlier." The redhead recalled when he gave a sassy hair-flip.

Pursing his lips, Atticus gave a fantastical pirouette with his nose in the air. "I’m glad you remember me~" He continued squeezing through the crowd of people to get to where Chase was, his arm-flapping above his head.

 

00:03

The kitchen had been cleared of most of the people; the other guests seemed to be avoiding even the hallway outside the room. When Selene and the other two arrived, there were only three others sat in airy space. A tanned female in a Playboy bunny suit sat on one of the stools with one leg crossed over the other as she fixed the caramel locks that stopped just below her collarbones. Next to her, a wallflower type: Pale skin with dark length wavy hair and doe eyes dressed in a classic witch’s costume sat on the bench a little behind the bunny. Across the room, and on the counter beside the sink sat the man that must have been Chase. Selene wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be a 1920's Gangster or a classy pimp - Either way, he was doing his jewel-toned purple costume a favour.

Licking the corner of his lips, the male sat on the counter drummed his fingers on the marble top with a smirk. "Where's Norman Bates Junior?"

Atticus scowled with his eyes down as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. "Do you have to call him that?" Clearly, he was not comfortable with the nickname bestowed upon the absent man.

Looking up from her phone, the girl in the Playboy suit scoffed in disgust. "The guy's a weirdo; forget what he's doing". Pretty eyes accentuated by black winged liner shot to the speaker. “You know it's best to always be the crowned.”

"Alex is looking for him." Leon cut in before an argument could brew, or more probably, Atticus could receive some form of harassment by the looks of things. And then he would end up going off like the last time. Nobody wanted that.

Turning his attention from the brunet who was on the verge of calling him out, Chase locked his line of sight on Selene. "Nice party, Miss Davenport." Chocolate eyes turned up into crescents as he smiled at the pin-up Franken-maid standing by the door.

Celadon irises scanned the strangers congregating in her kitchen. With her line of sight returning to the apparent leader, Selene took a swig from the Tequila bottle she still had hold of. "You should be thanking my friend for that. It was her effort." Selene had a firm grip on how a bad situation felt, and this was definitely it. She was just glad Cory wasn’t there, or else it’d probably turn into some kind of Kill Bill skirmish. That bitch had a way with antagonizing people, and Gods forbid someone had given her whiskey…

"I would but," Chase held his palms up at shoulder height as he looked around with faux seriousness. "I don't see her." Dark eyes settled on hers, and not her copious amount of cleavage - which was a bad sign; nobody ignored her rack that purposefully unless they were planning a fight.

Selene got a bad feeling from the way the man had said what he had. Rooting through the white pinafore over her stomach, the redhead fingered her phone  and pressed number one on her speed dial while keeping her eyes on the Gangster-Pimp watching her like a hawk, a devious glint in his eyes and a sly smile on his lips. Holding the device to her ear, she listened to the call connecting.

♪ 'Don’t you wanna claim
My body like a vandal?
You got the cure
Underneath your shirt…
Don’t you wanna save this
Dirty little damse-' ♪

"Hellllloooh~?" The answer echoed.

Snapping her head around, Selene tutted at the figure right behind the frosted glass kitchen door, the nose of her friend pressed against it as she fogged up the pane with heavy breathing. Opening the barrier, she smacked Corrina in the arm with a grumble. "You could have just told me you were behind me."

Lazy smile on her full, dry lips, the older home-owner nudged her friend with her shoulder gently. "Where's the fun in that?" Her eyes wandered from the redhead and to the others littering her kitchen. Catching the hostile air and the tension coming from her friend, the blonde’s primal instinct kicked in. Slinging her right arm over the redhead’s shoulder, she locked eyes with the man she could tell was the leader as if Selene was her property and he’d better not start shit.  "Do we have an issue?"

With both brows raised, Chase called out to the taller of the two men shuffling into the room behind the blonde female. "Finally decided to join us, Elliot?"

Meeting the older male's line of sight, Elliot's expression returned to the stoic one he had worn when popping up on Corrina. "Sorry, I had better company." The remark silenced the room completely, and the group of apparent friends all turned to look at the blond greaser.

The atmosphere dropped and the air seemed to turn physically colder. The home-owners had no idea what was going on. Before any questions on their part could be asked or even formed, Chase slid off the counter. Showing his real height which was even taller than Leon's, the gangsta-pimp advanced for the group by the door. Stopping within a pace of the blond a few inches shorter than him, the older male stared down at him with a sneer. "What was that?" He prodded Elliot's shoulder roughly and snorted a laugh when his victim was forced back a step. Reaching out for the younger man's t-shirt, Chase took another step forward. "I sai-"

Snatching the wrist that was outstretched by her left shoulder to take another shot, Corrina’s expression remained neutral. Smouldering joint hanging from her lips, the blonde female peered up at the man more than half a head taller than her. "I'm not a fan of macho bullshit. Pack it in, or leave." The offset of her native accent was becoming discernible.

Pulling his arm free with little effort, Chase stared down at the woman who had interrupted him. Smirk not faltering for a second, the older man placed his hand on her shoulder as he weaved through the group. Ducking his head down for a second, the guest whispered lowly. "You get involved in my business again and I won't be so polite a second time." Patting the female, Chase continued out of the room with the Playboy bunny and the witch in tow.

Once Chase and his two females were out of sight, Leon breathed a sigh of relief. Turning to face the blonde, he took his hat off and ran his hand over his quaffed hair. "I'd pay attention to whatever he said if I were you."

Puffing heavily on her spliff, the blonde rolled her eyes as she comically marched over to the cupboard by the fridge-freezer disguised behind the carved faux-ivory pane. "And why's that?" Corrina took a bottle of Sambuca from her hiding place and spun around to see the four men that remained showing signs of disbelief.

Atticus wobbled his head erratically as his hands played out strange gestures. "Chase is the Mayor's son."

"And?" The older female scrunched her face as if she’s shit and shrugged as her friend shuffled to the other side of the space.

The man who looked as though he could start voguing at any moment shook his head, this time slightly less dramatically, and pointed around. "You've never lived in a place like this before, have you?"

Flopping her head from side to side, the older woman fooled around as she cracked open the metal lid. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Leon glanced to Selene who was taking plastic shot glasses from the other side of the room and lining them up on the counter. "Just don't piss him off or you won't be the only one to suffer."

Glancing around as he took the afforded shot, he mousy blond who hadn’t introduced himself to the other women pulled a frown before it could reach his lips. “Where the hell has Finn gotten to?”

Leon and Atticus also looked around the kitchen which was beginning to fill up again. “You better get going Alex. You told Theia you’d keep an eye on him and she’s scarier than Chase when it comes to her brother.” Atticus gave an exaggerated shudder at the recollection as he downed his second shot, his hand out for a third.

“Why am I the one who always has to go looking for people? I’d like to enjoy myself sometime too, ya’know.”

“Because you’re a sweet boy,” the brunet reached out and tickled under Alex’s chin.

Swatting the hand away, Alex grumbled. “Piss off, Atticus. You better hope he’s not getting into a fight again because I can’t pull him away all by myself and nobody else is stupid enough to try and help me.” Knocking the Sambuca shot to the back of his throat, the shorted man, a dark-blonde with deepset crystalline eyes made for the kitchen door.

Jumping around and jiggling his arms as he wobbled his head, Atticus wafted a napkin at the back covered in a very expensive looking Assassin’s Creed cosplay as if he was waving off a lover taking the train on the way to war. “Go forth, my child~ Find the baby crow~”

Selene looked from the gadfly tormenting the apparent babysitter and to Leon. “Is he always like this?”

“On a quiet day.” Eyes scouring the assortment of food, the cop picked up a jelly worm and held it to Selene’s mouth.

“How seductive…” Corrina forced a wretch at the display and turned to face Elliot and Atticus.

The blond had been bestowed with a headband which held two little glowing pumpkins on springy antenna, while the brunet was dribbling down himself due to the vampire-fang ice-cube he was trying to keep in place under his top lip. “Ghrayt phorthy.”

Corrina was hit by the herbal fumes and the room spun as furious cackle rumbled up from her gut. Handing off the roll-up to Atticus, she stumbled out of the kitchen becoming too cramped for her liking. Waiting until the hostess had left, the brunet eyed his friend. Cupping his hands at his chest, he nodded upwards while wriggling his brows, red dribble on his chin. “Huhh~ I think she likes me.”

Coming back from the playful flirting, Selene reached over the counter and poured out another round for the four of them. “Although you are a little odd, you’re not nearly weird enough for her.”

“Oh, honey-dew sweetie-pie, I’m plenty weird enough.” The brunet told in a sing-song, his two friends nodding in agreement. "I'm the freakiest of the freaky," he did a body-roll as he flicked his tongue in lieu of cunnilingus, to which Leon and Elliot grimaced. “We’re all mad here.”

“You’re not her type.”

“That’s a travesty.” The man might as well have held the back of his wrist to his forehead and fainted in dramatic French fashion the way he said it.

“She’s into a particular brand of weird.”

“If that’s the case, she should have followed Alex on his little excursion to find Finn. If this is Wackoville, he’s the real mayor: The King of Disturbia; The fruit in the fruitcake-”

"-She gets it." Leon threw a chunk of pineapple at the brunet’s head and gave a pointed look. “Stop.”

“Aw, come on, Leo. Chase only thinks Elliot is the biggest loony because he doesn’t know half the shit Finn has pulled.” Glancing to the blond beside him, Atticus held up his hand briefly- “It’s okay, you can take offence; I meant it.” -before going back to holding a pair of sparklers to his chest as if they were nipple tassels and gyrating. “That, and I think even Chase is too scared to fuck with that big ol’ bag of insane.”

“What will you do if he hears you saying that?”

“Chase, or Finn? Because I’d rather call Chase a pussy to his face and take the beating than have Finn come to my house in the middle of the night and set my bed on fire, me asleep in it while he's skull-fuck my mother over my crispy corpse.”

"Atticus, you're Mom passed away when you were twelve."

Atticus' eyes went wide as his hands flapped by his shoulders, the sparkles spitting at Elliot in the process. "I know - and that fucker would dig her up just to do it - her-er...!"

"Are you okay?" Selene asked at the man blue-screening.

"Nah, 'just imagined my mom giving dome to the son of Satan."

"O-oh..." Selene was used to all kinds of gibberish when surrounded by drunk people, but that was a new one. She passed over a refill and watched the slender brunet down it. He really was a 'nightmare dressed like a daydream' - he'd made her paranoid about Cory meeting this man called Finn. Fuck, she needed to find a bottle to herself, or get something else-

"Wanna pop some Molly?"

Updated: 25th December 2019 - 00:33