Chapter Eleven – Movement in the Night
Note: Just for confirmation, because I didn't put it in the last chapter – the dollhouse the toys are sleeping in is two levels, with three rooms on each floor. I realise I put "second floor" in Blaine's dialogue…that is because here in the UK we would use first floor and second floor, not ground floor, first floor, second floor like in the USA. Hope that clears up some confusion.
She couldn't sleep, for a very particular reason. Without thinking twice, the redheaded doll got out of the bed in her little room on the second floor and padded across to the door that adjoined the next room. Opening it a crack, she peeked through to the toy asleep on the other side of the door. The glow from inside the room comforted her, and she pressed forward, closing the door behind her as she entered the next room.
She approached the bed, biting her lip, remembering what had gone during the rest of the day. She leaned forward, and shook the figure awake.
He couldn't sleep. Sitting up, glancing across at the window, he wondered if anyone would miss him if he simply left the doll house. It wasn't like he hadn't been in strange rooms before; he'd be able to find his way around. At the very least, he could always be discovered by some other child in the morning and be returned back to Amber.
Without a second thought, he pulled his slim frame upright, and walked to the window, yanking the frame up and open. Easing his body through the window, it was no mean feat to drop to the floor silently, before scurrying to the hole in the wall that had led them to the dolls house in the first place.
She had been thinking about this all night and all day. He was so incredibly sweet. The long braid over her shoulder flicked as the redheaded cowgirl doll shifted her weight through the door adjoining the next room, the green glow of the space toy in the next room welcoming her.
Shifting in the bed, the shadowy figure was seen to smile, beckoning her closer. "I've been expecting you," he whispered, vaguely aware that their friends were sleeping in rooms above and Jessie's brother was two doors away.
The redhead slipped forward, finding her way into the bed next to her boyfriend, her lips finding his in the dark as they snuggled together, kissing softly. Her arms were seen to wrap around his neck as she wriggled under the blanket, pulling it too far her way. Her companion laughed, pulling it back over himself, and it turned into too much of a game.
Within minutes the game had turned into something more passionate as they continued to wrestle under the covers, but in the dark it was impossible to know who had won.
She turned over in bed, aware someone was shaking her shoulder. Sitting up, Rochelle looked into the pitch blackness and jumped on seeing someone towering over her. She was about to squeal when the figure spoke.
"Relax would you? It's me!"
Composing herself, Rochelle noticed it was Summer leaning over her, her red hair shining softly in the partial light coming in the window over the bed.
"What is it?"
"I can't remember where I left my guitar."
"What?" Rochelle blinked, struggling upright a little, vaguely gauging the information.
"My guitar. Don't you remember? I had it when I was with you…when we first met Kurt."
"Kurt." The memory of Kurt's face, followed by his spiteful words towards the other toys, hurtled back into Rochelle's brain, making her grimace. She racked her brain for a moment, recalling Summer holding her guitar aloft at the initial meeting, when Rochelle herself had been a gibbering mess over that stupid male Barbie.
"Do you remember where I left it?" Summer asked, her voice slightly panicked. "I can't be leaving it anyway. It's not even my guitar, it's the lead guitar, the one that belongs to Blaine, and he's gonna be pretty mad with us if his reaction towards you earlier was anything to go by."
Rochelle sighed, feeling like a mother with a petulant toddler during a thunderstorm. "Go back to bed, Summer. I'll go look around for it."
Sitting up in bed, the male figure sighed. He couldn't get the image of his beloved out of his head. Try as he might, Sally Ann's conversation with him haunted his thoughts.
It did do him some good to know his once true love was in a nice place. Looked after, cared for, like he had been after he had left Andy's company for Bonnie's, and then throughout Amber's childhood so far.
She missed him.
He clung to that thought, throughout all others, and sighed as he settled back down in the strange, small bed, wondering if he would be able to rest at all that night whatsoever.
She was pretty sure she wasn't going to get any rest. With some effort, Rochelle kicked off the covers and allowed her long legs to dangle off the bed before hauling herself upright again.
There was only one thing for it. She'd have to go through Blaine's room. It was closest to the exit area, and that way she wouldn't disturb Teresa, who Summer seemed to think was entranced in a very deep sleep.
Passing across to the dividing door to Blaine's room, Rochelle opened it as quietly as possible, sneaking through into the dark room. She merely half glanced at the bed, noticing Blaine did not stir at all.
Looking to the wall where the window was, she was relieved to see it was already open – no danger of disturbing him further. It was too easy for her athletic doll frame to hop through the window, landing with a soft thud on the floor.
Brushing herself off a little and fluffing her hair, she set off on her mission – Operation Find Guitar. She giggled at her own magnificent logic as she escaped through the hole in the wall, and started to make her way towards the convention hall, and ultimately, the toy convention area.