The vermillion sun simmered down into an arcade of lingering skyscrapers, trailing behind the hue of an orange sky, filled with half-shadowed followers.
Damara takes a long drag out of her newly-lit cigarette. Her fingers rise up to her face to brush off the locks that have fallen out of place. It's a regular Marlboro – a common brand name. Anything else will either seem to be too expensive (worthy) or cheap (worthless), so it's best to stay mediocre.
Well, at least that's what she believes to be rightfully true. It's better than to believe that she'll turn into a billionaire overnight. Her chest moves inwards, and her shoulders relax. A puff of smoke gradually releases itself from the small opening of her reddened lips, as the soft evening breeze carries it away from the setting sun, and more or less, the host herself.
Aradia, her younger sibling, comes marching to her, ready to tell her something important. They rarely communicate with each other although they belong to the same set of parents. Their parents are currently away on a business trip to Switzerland – another one of those places that excites Aradia profoundly into studying its history, Damara hummed (My sister is a stereotypical romantic). Either one of them would only talk to the other person if they were staying out late or packing a takeaway.
'We're going to have dinner later during the party. There's going to be lots of food.'
They have been invited to a housewarming party tonight. Surprisingly, Feferi Peixes' birthday happens to fall on the same evening as well. Aradia was formally invited to attend the event, but Damara – of course, the name Peixes rings an ominous siren in her head – had to be secretly hinted by her sister that her name had been secretly shuffled into the gigantic guest list in the dark. She didn't want to attend, yet alone continue existing, but Aradia had took tedious precautions to ensure that Damara's makeup kit and personal notebook had ended up in Cronus' bag (the two of them lunged the same, secondhand thrift store carrier, fortunately) without her sister's attention and prior notice to most things.
It was twilight, and Damara's throat was aching for water, so they flagged a cab and headed straight off to the Peixes' residence. Along the way, Aradia was busy fiddling with the knot of her uneven waist ribbon and Damara had taken the appeal of chewing fruit-flavoured bubble-gum in the backseat – being highly prone and vulnerable to awful radio pop music blasting from the bass stereos in the poorly conditioned taxi. Aradia had to sit in front to refer the sleepy driver around intersections and road flyers to keep him and herself awake.
The two girls had arrived nine minutes ago – according to the digital clock on Damara's phone. One of the two was enjoying the evening to her heart's content by engaging in a hushed, non-excited conversation with a certain Captor Jr., while the other was busy looking past people's figures and faces for a prominent greasy Elvis lookalike. The crowd had begun to increase in numbers, and sweat droplets were starting to form on Damara's back. In the far left of the room towards the kitchen, a shrilly voice yelled for more lemon cocktail and Sprite, while another voice from the middle of the crowd replied with a booming, 'Well, crap! We've run outta both,' in mid-conversation.
Whatever made Aradia think that Damara would enjoy attending enormous parties like this – with final half-attempted, half-glamorous tries at decoration and beverage made her want to throw her high heeled shoes at the ceiling lights. Gaudy colours were splashed about the entire main hall in the form of frilly evening gowns, waiters, pastry and wallpaper. Damara noticed a queer couple brushing against themselves in a hopeful, quiet corner – which she retaliated by picking up a nearby fondue-smudged cake, and then threw it in the direction of the couple's heads.
The same voice which had been asking for Sprite moments ago thundered by demanding the culprit's identity. Eyes and gasping sound effects turned heads towards her as she stormed off towards the exit, when Cronus Ampora's arm reached out towards her left and yanked her out into the garden.
'Dam, what in heaven's name d'ya think you're doing?'
Her voice broke out in a cry. 'You should be asking them! Of all places – they could've hidden somewhere else to fuck! I don't want to keep seeing them wherever I go!'
'Shit, Dam. Calm down,' Cronus turned his head around twice to make sure no one was listening. 'Look. I know you did what you had to do because those two bastards were touchin' themselves in there, but you gotta keep in mind that this ain't the time for rebellious behaviour. This is Feferi's birthday party we're talkin' about and you-'
'Do you think I care if it's her birthday or not? Why should I stick my butt up to the likes of her and her fucking famil-'
'Don't you dare talk shit about the Peixes' like that, Dam. Don't you dare.'
Cronus had closed the gap between them in a dreadfully sudden way that his chest was almost touching her nose – except for the shocking fact that it wasn't his chest, but instead his sharp nose which was demanding an apology with a pair of blue vengeful eyes. Damara's eyes turned stone cold as she snatched the other's carrier from around his wrist, searching for her missing belongings before Cronus could steal it back from her.
'I thought we talked about this before. Know your limits.'
His voice, which was unusually pale with anxiety and heavy with the scent of apple cider, stayed with her throughout the night. She had counted seventeen times of seeing her own reflection in the square mirror of her makeup kit before giving up. Afterwards, she made eye contact with her ex-boyfriend – she couldn't even bring herself to spell out his name clearly in her head – as she deeply regretted having thrown the semi-decent cake into his face. At last, it was half-past eight and Cronus was still fuming mad at her – he talked to all the female guests that night except her – so she decided to retreat home. It was a horrible night.
'But I made it horrible, didn't I?'
On the way out with a set of contagious doubts and a handbag stuffed full of belongings, a makeup kit and a notebook, Damara bumped shoulders with a young gentleman – somewhat of the same height as her. His head was downed in straight, jet black hair and his clothes reeked of unnecessary amounts of cologne and deodorant. The lad apologised profusely before speaking.
'E-Excuse me, Miss Megido, but um...I'm afraid that my elder brother is looking forward to speak with you. Would you mind following me to meet him?'
Damara had no clue of how he knew of her name and who he or his elder brother's identities were, but she gave a tired nod to indicate a positive response. He didn't seem too pleased about this, as his meek smile was then replaced by a straight face, as he led her out of the Peixes' residence onto the noisy main street. A younger-looking teenage girl clad in a short dark green – or was it lime green? Damara couldn't tell under the yellow street lamps – party dress greeted the boy cheerfully, as she whispered a mocking remark regarding Damara into his ear. He paid no attention to it and continued walking down the pathway.
Fast cars zoomed down the city street, some with fluorescent white headlights, while others with dull yellow eyes searching through the dark. Damara paced unsurely behind the pair of teenagers, which had now fallen eerily silent – or really, just really secretive in their communication – and all she could focus on was the dark patch of sweat on the lad's back, appearing past his blue linen shirt. In a way, it mirrored her confusion as to where she was heading and if Cronus was still angry at her. She thought it would be fine, since he'd definitely have to talk to her again to blow off some steam and to complain about his job. They turned right after the fourth block into the entrance of a deserted park, linked by an avenue of closed shutters. The boy stopped and spun around calculatedly to meet her eyes. 'He'll be waiting by a bench,' his thick voice broke the night air around her.
'Why is your brother waiting in a place like this?'
'That...That's because...' He stammered.
'Hey! Don't talk like that to Equius!' The lime green girl interjected, causing Damara to step back. They left shortly afterwards, leaving her alone underneath a flickering street lamp. She turned around to examine the vicinity. No cars were around. Under the lamp, she made out of what appeared to be the figure of a rubbish bin, full of tied up waste bags and unwanted leftover meals. The smell of rotting vomit flooded up to her nose, and she decided that it was best to make her way into the park.
Her heels clicked awkwardly against the concrete pavement, as she began to feel cold and unsettled, wondering if she would've made a wiser decision to wear a longer overcoat over her knee-length skirt. She was longing for a cigarette, and instinctively, her hand dove into her handbag for a 12-pack, meanwhile dropping her phone clumsily onto the ground.
'Shit.'
...
'I always wondered why you had to speak like that.'