"Thank you for the lovely evening Preston. That cider was to die for."
"Your welcome. It was a pleasure having you over for my little soire'."
The snooty man laughed his snooty laugh, causing his one line of hair to flip back and forth across his scalp. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. See you at the Multibucks International Investment group meeting next month."
"Yes. Yes. Bye now." The mustachioed man said to his dandy friend.
The annual party at the Northwest Manor had been a complete success. The affluent had their day in the sun reveling in a celebration of their riches while the common town folk of Gravity Falls had their fill of consuming all manner of fancy foods and misplacing eating utensils. Yes everyone enjoyed their visit to the manor. Everyone except for the owners of the house.
The Northwest family had intended to invite only the richest and most powerful people in their inner circle. The entire event was made to cement their business relationships and further solidify their influence in the town through the exclusivity of their guest list. Everything was going according to the Northwest's plan. That was until a vengeful ghost, a disobedient daughter and a clumsy 12 year old boy conspired to crash the party and let the gates be open to the common folk.
To them their perfect party had been perfectly ruined. Their perfect reputation had been tarnished in the eyes of their rich friends. Indeed, they had failed to uphold their rigid sense of classist motivated segregation and provide their friends an evening free of common folk interaction (as if they didn't get enough of that already). Fortunately most of the guests who were actually invited all left a little after the arrival of the common folk.
"Pacifica Elise Northwest." The mustachioed man shouted from the top of his lungs.
No one answered. Not a peep from the servants. They were all quite busy attending to their other duties which as of present was shuffling around carrying clothes and plates back to the kitchen. The staff knew that when the mustachioed man known as Preston Northwest was angry, it was best to avoid eye contact and his attention altogether.
'This is it. The party is over. The guests are gone. Dipper is gone. The doors are locked. The gates are closed.' Pacifica Elise Northwest thought to herself inside one of the many hidden rooms the Northwest manor had to offer. She had discovered it at the beginning of the party as she attempted to flee from a homicidal lumberjack ghost. Now, surrounded by the paintings of her family's most infamous liars, con artists and mad scientists, it was her one safe refuge from the inevitable wrath of her parents for disobeying them and allowing the common folk to enter the mansion.
In Pacifica's defense her options at the time of the opening of the party gates was to either open the gates herself and save all the party guests from their fate as wooden sculptures about to enter a firey inferno of death or hide in the basement for week and live off sandwiches and the meat of a soon to be dead butler. For Pacifica, the choice between sanity and cannibalism was simple.
As Pacifica sat in the abandoned room, an idea came to her mind. Maybe her parents would see the practicality and morality of her choice. Had she not given in to the ghost's demands the Northwest family's friends and business associates would've all died a horrible death because of her parent's stubborn stuck-up attitude towards the segregated town folk. The Northwest reputation would've deteriorated nonetheless because of their responsibility in allowing their friends and potential investors into their many financial firms to die.
'PACIFICA ELISE NORTHWEST' Preston bellowed. Pacifica could hear the rage in his voice halfway across the house. 'Would someone please find my daughter? You there…um…what's your face.'
"Jeeves, sir."
"Shut up and find my daughter. Bring her to me."
"Yes sir."
'Oh no' Pacifica dreaded the approach of the butler. She knew his background included military experience in the SAS and would have no trouble finding her within the hidden room.
Pacifica covered her eyes and allowed her head to sink onto her knees. She had some measure of how angry her parents would be for ruining their reputation ever so slightly. But she never imagined him yelling at the top of his lungs. At times like these, the usual route of punishment is a good old fashioned grounding, Northwest style. The child would be placed in her room, deprived of all electronics, pictures and books, meals would be given through a locked door and left with the gnawing sensation that her brain was rotting. Events such as these usually lasted multiple weeks at their worst and a few days at their lowest severity. It was somewhere between the grounding experienced by middle class teens in the suburbs and Nazi Gestapo torture practices without the beatings and starvation.
The painting covered entrance to Pacifica's hiding place fluttered and the silhouette of Jeeves the butler appeared before Pacifica. "Miss Pacifica?" Jeeves stood tall, back straight and serious like the military man he was. "Your parents require your presence in the party hall." His voice was calm and collected knowing full well he was sending her to the wolves.
Pacifica sighed. "Very well" Pacifica whispered, barely audible to Jeeves. She slowly got up and walked towards her fate. Before fully stepping into the light of the hallway Jeeves held Pacifica's hand back.
"Miss Pacifica?" Jeeves said, his body hidden by the now ripped canvas of the painting covering the room. "Thank you for saving the lives of the guests and my own. I know your parents may not believe it but you did the right thing."
"Thanks Jeeves. I needed to hear that." A small smile appeared across Pacifica's face as she turned and left her hiding place behind, feeling a little braver and more confident than she was before.
"Preston dearest. Let's get ready for bed and put an end to this terrible night." A woman with far too many botox injections said as she approached him. "We should all get some rest from having dealt with the riff raff of this town."
Preston softened at her suggestion. "Well. I suppose a little rest would do me some good. Fine, we'll deal with Pacifica in the morning."
"You wanted to see me daddy." Pacifica said, appearing just as her parents were taking their first steps towards their bedrooms. Had she waited just a few minutes longer perhaps she would have been spared the lecture until the next day.
"Yes I did." Preston Northwest said, rounding on his daughter with a more firm and stoic expression. The wife stood silently behind him with a look of concern. "You disobeyed us and allowed the riff raff to enter our mansion." A throbbing vein was clearly visible on Preston's left temple. "Their table manners were atrocious, our apple cider supply tastes like lumberjack sweat and most importantly…" He turned away from Pacifica and took a few steps towards the dying fire of their fireplace. "The Northwest reputation has been sullied. You know how our friends feel about rubbing elbows with the lesser folk. We live busy and fulfilling lives that need rest periods free of the human filth that would otherwise disrupt ours. If we can't provide that for them that much then our reputations are diminished and our social and business relationships follow suit."
Pacifica winced at each sentence. She knew what her reply would be to each of her father's statements but she also knew not to talk back when he was like this. At every other conversation she had with her father about sensitive subjects such as this the smart thing to do would be to listen, understand and give the illusion that she had learned her lesson through infrequent and silent nods. The only difference was that she knew for a fact that he was wrong; that no matter how harsh his words were the consequences of her actions would be the same. Dipper's words this night helped confirm what she had already been thinking for a long time.
"Daddy." Pacifica started in an almost monotone voice. It was key that she keep her emotions absent from the conversation so as to not incite her father's anger. "Our reputation was down the drain the moment the ghost showed up, turned everyone to wood and about to burn the house down along with everyone in it. If I hadn't pulled that lever for everyone our family friends and business prospects would've gone up in ashes literally."
Preston Northwest returned his glare to his daughter. His frustration and anger with Pacifica had reached a peak to the point where his hair was on fire. But that may have been because he was standing too close to the fireplace.
He approached Pacifica, stomping as he did so, extinguished his flaming coifed hair (it was reaching his scalp) and smacked Pacifica on the cheek. "Do not disrespect your father." He snapped. "Who do you think was responsible for allowing that detestable ghost back into the house?"
"Dipper." Pacifica meekly replied. Her hand touched her cheek where a little bit of burnt hair residue covered her still burning cheek.
"And who chose Dipper to exorcise said ghost in advance of the party so that our reputation would not be sullied by this inconvenience?"
"Me." Pacifica turned her head down to look at the perfectly clean floor the butlers and maids had just recently cleaned. She could see her face's reflection and couldn't help but notice that her left eye was just barely forming a tear.
"Good. I have a feeling that boy Dipper released the ghost on purpose to get back at us."
"That's not true." Pacifica pleaded. "I don't know how the ghost got out but Dipper came back to try and stop it. But he was…was…" The words were stuck in Pacifica's throat.
"Pacifica Elise Northwest." He said sternly. She knew instantly not to talk anymore. "I don't want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the night. Now get out of my sight."
Pacifica slowly and robotically turned away and began what seemed like the long journey back to her room. Her mother looked after daughter walking away and felt a twinge of sympathy in her heart. Given the botox injections and her taut skin no one would notice.
When Pacifica got to her room the first thing she did was enter her personal bathroom. She walked past her giant mirror knowing full well how she looked without glancing at it. Next came the undressing and allowed her pretty purple dress to slowly fall to the floor in a heap. She entered her shower, turned the water to moderately hot and hoped the temperature would soothe away the need to cry.
Five minutes into the shower, Pacifica began to regain her composure and reorganize her thoughts. She began thinking of Dipper. They had quite a fun time dancing through the night and even shared in a few slow dances. Ironically, the name of the first slow dance was Fur Elise by Beethoven. Dipper had a difficult time following the movements for Fur Elise and the other classical pieces but with a little assistance from Pacifica and hand redirection (his hands had a hard time knowing the difference between hip and butt) he found his clumsy way. Afterwards, they started trashing a couple of rooms in the mansion with special attention to the silver clad room. She later blamed some of the party guests for the mess and thought just how wonderful it felt to get away with it. For one night and one night only, Pacifica felt like she was liberated from the pressures of proper behavior and rule abiding her parents had consistently enforced on her.
A genuine laugh made its way out of Pacifica's mouth. Usually her laughter was reserved for times when she had insulted or humiliated someone in the town or for the esoteric jokes dinner party guests made at the mansion. No. This was a kind of laughter made when people are genuinely happy, free of malice towards anyone else and meant to be shared with a friend. A 12 year old's laugh.
'I'm going crazy.' Pacifica thought to herself as she reflected on the fact that she had gone from crying to laughing in a matter of minutes. She contemplated bipolar disorder as the root cause of her mood switching. 'On the whole, I guess my night was pretty great.' The burnt hair residue on Pacifica's cheek from Preston's slap finally washed away and disappeared into the shower drain.
