Soundtrack: Please Don't Stop the Music – Rihanna
(It's a very dance-y song, and great for the ball)
"I still can't believe you invited Howard Collins!"
Lizzie flicked her long hair back, eyeing her friend who was grinning sheepishly while zipping up Lizzie's dress. She seriously could not believe it. She had known Charlotte was bringing a date to the Thanksgiving Ball – but Mr Collins!
Lizzie had grinned, calling it a grand joke at first. Until she saw Charlotte wince, that is. Then Lizzie's jaw had dropped open, and it had taken several minutes before she could close it. The first thing that came out of her mouth afterwards was "Who are you, and what did you do with the real Charlotte?"
The Charlotte Lizzie knew was a sensible person. She was sane, at the very least. Even so, Lizzie was forced to reconsider Charlotte's sanity. And still the fact remained. Howard Collins was coming to the Thanksgiving Ball.
"Lizzie, he's a perfectly nice guy! And you should have seen his face when I invited him."
Lizzie lifted an eyebrow.
"What did he look like; an adorable puppy dog? Or maybe a smiling salamander?" asked Lizzie cynically.
"Lizzie, stop that! Or else you can zip up the dress yourself."
Lizzie bit her lip. She did need Charlotte's help. The dress was a nightmare to put on properly. Now she wondered how she had managed back in the mall. Well, there had been that woman who had helped Lizzie try on every single dress Charlotte ordered her to put on…
"Did he slobber on your hand again?" Lizzie couldn't resist one last jibe.
"Lizzie! Do you want to do all this yourself?"
Lizzie sighed, "No, I'm sorry. It's just that…I really can't believe you're going with Mr Collins."
The mirror reflected Charlotte's small smile. Lizzie inwardly groaned. She had thought Charlotte was a sensible young lady who had good taste. Charlotte had good taste in clothes, good taste in movies and good taste in music. But somehow she had missed out on a very important sense – a good taste in guys.
"It's not that hard to believe. He's a respectable gentleman who's looking for commitment. He's not a playboy and he's not an alcoholic. He's a good man."
"But he's impossible! He's ridiculous, annoying and arrogant! Charlotte, you can do-"
"Lizzie, not everyone can afford to wait for prince charming." said Charlotte quietly.
It was true, and Lizzie knew that. Was she waiting for her prince charming? Lizzie shook her head. There was no such thing as prince charming. Not in her books, at least. She had given up on that a long time ago.
"Is Jane coming to the Ball?" asked Charlotte, changing the subject.
Lizzie smiled to herself. It had taken a bit of persuasion to get Jane to go, but Lizzie had done it. Jane was one of those slightly shy people, which was strange since she was a supermodel. She was always modest and never wanted to deliberately draw attention to herself. However, Lizzie had persuaded her – that is, threatened to blackmail her – to come.
On the Monday, Jane had tagged along with Lizzie to work. And she'd somehow managed to arrange an appointment with Darcy. What they talked about, however, was still a mystery for Lizzie. But it was perfect material for getting even.
"An eye for an eye," she said, "You talked to Mr Darcy, now you have to come to the Ball."
Jane gave in pretty quickly after that, which made Lizzie wonder what they had talked about. But she had promised to herself, during the minutes of Jane and Darcy's "meeting," that she wouldn't ask what had happened. It was unhealthy and unnecessary to ask. And she had stuck by that thought for the better part of the week.
She'd been sorely tempted to ask many times, though.
"Yeah, she is. But I don't know what she's doing right now. Maybe she went over to Claudia's? She did promise to lend some clothes to Claudia." said Lizzie.
The lending of designer clothes had been Jane's main bargaining chip. After the offer, Claudia had immediately organised the appointment. Claudia had even offered to escort Jane up to Darcy's office herself.
"That girl's so shallow." muttered Charlotte.
"Are you saying that you wouldn't take the offer if you were in her place?" asked Lizzie incredulously.
Charlotte's indignant expression was priceless. If Lizzie wasn't preoccupied she would have instantly taken out her phone and snapped a photo of it. Too bad she couldn't.
Suddenly, Charlotte jerked on the zip, making Lizzie yelp.
"There! You're done." said Charlotte smugly.
Lizzie glared at Charlotte, before adjusting her dress. She certainly didn't want the strapless dress to start inching down during the night. She didn't want a repeat of a dance three years ago, where her midnight blue dress had to be hoisted up once every ten seconds. Lizzie grimaced. Hopefully that wasn't going to happen tonight, or else it would border on being disastrous.
"Your turn now, Charlotte!"
"I'm pretty sure I can do it myself."
Charlotte started to edge away, noting the vengeful glint in Lizzie's eyes.
"Uh uh. Come on, Charlotte. You'll need help."
The pink dress, lying on the sofa, was quickly seized by Lizzie and brandished dangerously in front of her. Let me help you, or your dress cops it, was her message. Charlotte grimaced, and quickly made her way back to the mirror. Lizzie gave Charlotte a meaningful look, to which Charlotte nodded at. Then Lizzie gave her the dress so that Charlotte could put it on in the bathroom.
"Good girl. Now tell me, what possessed you to ask Mr Collins?" asked Lizzie.
"I've already told you!" Came the muffled reply from the bathroom.
Lizzie sighed. Mr. Collins was wealthy enough, didn't do drugs, and had a clean record – Lizzie couldn't argue with those. But still, nothing excused the fact that Mr Collins was the most ridiculous guy Lizzie had ever known.
"Come on, Char. Is it really worth it?"
There was a muffled "umm," followed by a loud "OUCH!" Lizzie glanced at the door, wondering if Charlotte was in trouble. Knowing Charlotte, Lizzie guessed that she had probably bumped her head onto something, or stubbed her toe. Something like that.
"Lizzie, help me with this confounded bow." growled Charlotte, popping her head out of the bathroom.
"Get out of the bathroom, then." called Lizzie. Charlotte didn't look too comfortable; she was holding up the dress to make sure it didn't fall down.
"Argh!"
Lizzie hid a smile as Charlotte walked awkwardly over to her. Lizzie took hold of the bow, and then Charlotte spread out her arms so that Lizzie could fasten the bow at the back properly for her. Lizzie quickly did so, making sure it was tight and secure.
"Char, you still haven't answered my question. Do you really think it's worth it?" asked Lizzie.
Charlotte sighed and looked at Lizzie in the mirror. Then she smiled, patting Lizzie's head.
"A guy as silly as Howard Collins doesn't come along every day, Lizzie!"
Lizzie made sure she wasn't looking into the mirror, because then Charlotte would see her look of utter disbelief. How Charlotte could even stand Mr Collins was beyond her. And yet here was Charlotte, making Mr Collins even more of a joke than he already was. Lizzie made sure her face had reverted back to normal before she turned to face the mirror again.
"Charlotte, you look wonderful!" exclaimed Lizzie.
Truly, Charlotte's pale pink dress matched perfectly with her strawberry blonde hair. She looked elegant and refined. Even her brown eyes gained extra sparkle and depth.
"Lizzie, how can you say that? Look at yourself first."
Lizzie's reflection was certainly very flattering. The dress fitted perfectly, despite the annoying side zips. It seemed like it was going to hold up and not start sliding down during the night. It was as close to a perfect dress as Lizzie could have wished.
"Well, we still have make-up and hair to do. So chop, chop!" ordered Lizzie.
Out came the curling tongs, the ionic hair dryer, and all the cosmetics. Mascara, eye shadow, lipstick and lip-gloss were thrown mercilessly onto the floor, the couch – and their faces.
"Hey, I like being able to see with my two eyes, okay!" yelped Lizzie, when Charlotte nearly poked her right eye with the eyeliner.
"If you don't squirm it'll be fine!" muttered Charlotte, still trying to apply it.
It took another hundred yelps and complaints before the make-up and hair were done. By that time, Lizzie was sure she never wanted to see make-up or the curling iron again. But she had to admit the end result was pretty good.
"So, just the jewelry now, right?" asked Lizzie.
Dangly gold earrings, a blue topaz necklace, and two alternating gold and silver bangles accompanied Lizzie's dress perfectly. Charlotte chose rose quartz earrings and a complimenting necklace of amethyst and rose quartz.
"We don't look too bad, right?" laughed Charlotte while they looked at themselves in Lizzie's full-length mirror.
"How can we look bad, after all that work we put into it all?" asked Lizzie, mock horrified.
Charlotte smiled, but the smile abruptly disappeared when the doorbell rang.
"So I suppose we'll have the pleasure of Mr Collins's company right now?" asked Lizzie, eyeing Charlotte.
"What else could I have done? It was the easiest arrangement." explained Charlotte.
Lizzie groaned, but stopped herself from slapping her forehead in exasperation.
"At least he rang the doorbell." muttered Lizzie, as Charlotte hurried to open the door.
"My darling Charlotte, you look absolutely ravishing."
Howard Collins's affectionate tone made Lizzie want to gag. How could Charlotte invite him to the Ball? Lizzie had mulled over it many times, but it still seemed utterly preposterous. It was very much reality, though. Lizzie sighed, and counted ten seconds before she turned around to confront Collins and his absurdity.
"Mr Collins, what a delight." she said flatly. No sane person could misinterpret the insincere tone. Mr Collins, however, did.
"Yes, it is a delight indeed. Who wouldn't be delighted to be in my company? My company is most refined and elegant. I pride myself on maintaining such an air about myself that my company is most exhilarating and entertaining. And speaking of exhilarating - isn't my Charlotte exhilaratingly beautiful? She is a true beauty, one with neither pretence nor pride. She is generous, kind-hearted, and very sensible. I do believe that no one is as wonderful as my darling Charlotte."
Lizzie lifted an eyebrow. Was that intended to make her feel ashamed or jealous? If it was, it was having the opposite effect entirely. Right now, Lizzie was extremely grateful they hadn't gone to the "next level." Lizzie shuddered to even think of it.
"Um, thank you. Howard, you look nice too. Shall we go?" asked Charlotte, flustered. Even her rouge paled in comparison to the dark blush Mr Collins's remarks had evoked.
"Of course, my rose petal. If Miss Eliza will kindly hurry up?"
Lizzie gritted her teeth to stop herself from losing her temper. It was just one night, right? She could do this. She'd survived half a year of him barging into her apartment after all.
After one last calming look at their reflections, the taxi was called. Lizzie breathed a secret sigh of relief when it wasn't as rundown and stinky as the one they had caught on the way to LaGuardia airport.
"Ready to party, girl?" asked Charlotte excitedly.
Exhilaration lighted up Charlotte's face, making her face glow with anticipation.
"Most definitely!" she exclaimed, stepping into the taxi after Charlotte.
Bubbles of excitement started to grow as Lizzie caught on to the infectious vibe from Charlotte. The feeling was almost tangible, and only slightly diminished by Mr Collins's endless chatter with the taxi driver. Didn't he realize that the cabbie didn't understand English?
Lizzie pushed away her thoughts from Mr Collins. She wasn't going to let him ruin her night. The night was going to be grand. Or so she'd heard, from Charlotte. Hundreds of people would be there; employees, their guests and of course the employers.
And that meant…
An image of Darcy dressed impeccably in a tux floated into Lizzie's thoughts. His hair was carelessly slicked back and a light smell of aftershave hung around him, mixed with the smell of some perfume. In the image he was smiling while he held out his arm for Lizzie. Just like nine years ago. Just like at the homecoming dance.
No, this wasn't the right time to go there. She was meant to enjoy this ball, not linger in the bittersweet memories of the past. She sure as heck wasn't going to let some memories faze her.
That was her resolve, which only wavered slightly when she stepped out of the taxi. It was like a red carpet moment, minus the red carpet. The entrance was crowded with people. There were dozens of taxis, luxurious looking cars and even a stretch limousine.
A limousine. No guesses there as to who was in the limo. Lizzie quickly looked away from Darcy's limo as he stepped out, followed by two other men and a lady. Who were they? Well, she certainly wasn't going to be sticking around to find out.
"Lizzie! You look wonderful!"
Lizzie's face broke into a wide, genuine smile. Jane had arrived with Claudia. Jane looked absolutely wonderful in a shining light gold dress with a halter-neck and a high-low hem. Her hair was tied up in a bun that had a mass of curled ringlets dangling out. She was very much a golden girl. Everyone, Lizzie was sure, paled in comparison to Jane. Like they always did, of course.
"Say that after you look at yourself first, Jane!" said Lizzie, smiling mildly.
"I'm sure I'd still say the same thing." replied Jane solemnly, before laughing and reaching out to hug Lizzie delicately.
"Whoa! Don't you go ruin my handiwork, missy!" warned Charlotte.
"Charlotte! You look great!" exclaimed Jane.
"Really? Well, I suppose some credit can be given to Lizzie for that." teased Charlotte, laughing at Lizzie's affronted expression.
"Oh no Charlotte, I think I forgot to put eyeliner on your left eye!" cried Lizzie, covering her mouth in shock.
"Shock and horror! Lizzie, how can you do such a thing?" said Claudia with a simper, finally calling the attention of everyone.
"Yeah Lizzie, how can you do such a thing?" repeated Charlotte, shaking her head in disbelief.
Charlotte's tone was incredibly disapproving and long-suffering, but there was no mistaking the twinkle in her eyes and the slight arch of her lips.
The twinkle disappeared quickly when another person joined the conversation.
"Charlotte, will you introduce me to these lovely people?"
Mr Collins had finally finished his conversation with the cabbie, it seemed. He took out a handkerchief to wipe his glistening forehead, smiling widely at Claudia and Jane. His gaze lingered on Jane far longer than necessary, making Jane blush in embarrassment. If he had done that to Lizzie, she would have told him to look away if he wanted his gonads to remain intact.
"Jane, Claudia, this is Howard Collins." introduced Charlotte, blushing.
"Nice to meet you, Jane and Claudia. My, Charlotte never told me she had such attractive friends."
Claudia sniggered softly. Even Jane had to hide a smile, despite her skill in hiding and feigning emotions. Lizzie felt sorry for Charlotte as she turned as red as a tomato. She definitely deserved better than this slimy, disgusting man.
"My, Charlotte never told me she had a boyfriend." said Claudia, mimicking Mr Collins's tone.
"Where's your boyfriend then, Claudia? Anyway, he's just a friend." said Lizzie quickly, coming to Charlotte's rescue. Charlotte had turned even redder.
"Yes, I am just a friend. But I intend to be so much more in the future. My Charlotte is a most precious creature that I won't bear to be anything but her inamorato."
"That's lovely." said Jane firmly, ending the discussion.
Mr Collins opened his mouth to say something else, before Claudia cut across hastily.
"Have fun then, you all. I have to meet up with some other people." drawled Claudia, waving lazily as she walked into the ballroom.
Lizzie looked at Jane, who shrugged, then entered the ballroom as well. What was it going to be like? Lizzie got her answer.
Music and excited chatter immediately overwhelmed them. Everything sparkled and everything glittered. Lizzie had never seen such a grand setting. Crystal chandeliers sparkled brilliantly from the ceiling and golden 'candles' gave off a lovely glow. Dozens of small round tables were dotted among the people, where people placed their champagne glasses and plates of food.
"Ain't it grand." murmured Jane.
"You don't know grand, my dear!" boasted Mr Collins, making Charlotte grimace slightly as they pushed through the crowds to get to a vacant table.
"Remind me how rich this company is again?" breathed Lizzie.
"It's the second largest consumer goods company. Or something like that." said Charlotte dully. It obviously wasn't so impressive to her.
"So much for company pride, hey?" teased Lizzie.
"Company pride? What's that?" asked Charlotte, laughing, "Anyway, let's get moving so that we can find a good niche in this overcrowded place."
Lizzie sincerely hoped Charlotte knew where she was going, because she had no idea. But while she followed Charlotte (with a whole lot of "Oops!" and "Sorry!" for the many times she stepped on someone's foot or walked right into them) she scanned the ballroom, taking in the details and decorations.
Gold and copper ribbons hanging from the ceiling and on the walls caught her eyes. On every table, cornucopias of leaves, pinecones, twigs and berries, which had been spray painted silver, gold and burgundy, were placed proudly in the centre. Proud, elegant pillars seemed to support the room, giving the ballroom a vintage touch. It was beautiful, but there was something about it that made Lizzie's lip curl in distaste. Why was there so much money to spare on such lavish decorations, while families lost their homes and couldn't afford basic necessities because of the economic crisis?
"Ladies and Gentleman!"
The hall slowly quieted down as every head turned to the stage. A heavy sense of anticipation filled the air as everyone watched the Master of Ceremonies, who was patiently repeating the same three words again and again. When the hall was finally silent (or as close to silence as it could get) he began.
"Thank you. Firstly, welcome to the annual Perigee Delta Thanksgiving Ball. Whether you are an employee, distinguished guest, or family member, please enjoy the night. Now, without further ado, Mr Darcy will make his address."
Lizzie breathed in sharply as Darcy walked up to the stage. Her eyes were glued onto his moving figure – she couldn't tear her eyes away. He was dressed flawlessly in a white tuxedo, but he looked stiff and uncomfortable as if nothing was to his taste. Lizzie almost snorted. It was so like him to be totally unimpressed by everything. Nothing was ever good enough for him. Nothing.
Lizzie blinked her eyes. Was it a trick of the light? Once Darcy was on the stage, he suddenly seemed more relaxed. He was even smiling! Suddenly, the room fell silent. It was interesting how he could command everyone's attention just by standing there and smiling.
"Ladies and Gentleman, it is a pleasure to see you all tonight. The Thanksgiving Ball has been a tradition of this company for many years, and continues to be a delight to attend. As always, we are here to celebrate the spirit of togetherness, loyalty, and cooperation – two very important values of this company. These values will only grow more important with the changing times. So, let us celebrate this holiday with joy. Let us make a toast – to friends, family, and love."
Lizzie felt her jaw clench with tension as she listened. His voice was so clear, so penetrating. Everyone was cheering and champagne glasses clinked loudly as everyone joined in the toast. Everyone except for Lizzie. She gritted her teeth and stared at the floor in disdain. Why was he so good at lying? Because he certainly couldn't have meant what he said. "Spirit of togetherness, loyalty and cooperation" – what did he know of them? And, as if he cared for them! If he did, he wouldn't have done what he had nine years ago. But she was letting the past cloud the present once more. Maybe he changed.
The large band started playing, filling the ballroom with music. Vibrant chatter soon followed, making the atmosphere light and festive. Lizzie plastered a smile on her face. She felt so out of place in the ballroom. Everyone was celebrating Thanksgiving - or at least celebrating. That's what she was meant to be doing as well. But it was hard, especially after hearing the words "friends, family and love" coming from Darcy's mouth.
"Charlotte, my darling, will you honor me with this dance?"
Lizzie glanced up to monitor Charlotte's expression. What would it be? Mortified? Annoyed? Panicked? But Charlotte merely looked amused. Perhaps – just perhaps – Charlotte didn't mind him. Lizzie frowned slightly at the thought. How could Charlotte tolerate him?
"I suppose." replied Charlotte.
"You are a wonder." whispered Lizzie to herself.
Charlotte and Mr Collins immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lizzie and Jane. Lizzie frowned slightly, then looked to Jane.
"Jane, how can Charlotte stand a person like Mr Collins?" asked Lizzie.
"He has his merits, I'm sure. He looks pretty devoted to her at least." replied Jane smoothly.
Lizzie lifted her eyebrows. If someone was that devoted to her, she would run a mile.
"Do you consider being a slimy and lecherous pain in the ass a merit?"
"Keep an open mind. I know he's not that great-"
"No kidding." snorted Lizzie.
"But perhaps he makes Charlotte happy. And that's the important thing, right?"
"But that's the problem. I think Charlotte is tolerating this man just because she thinks she has to." said Lizzie quietly.
And it was true. Hadn't Charlotte said she was "past her prime"? Hadn't Charlotte said she couldn't afford to wait for prince charming? Lizzie just wished she didn't think that way, because she knew Charlotte could do so much better. She was intelligent, attractive, and independent. What did men want other than that?
"She's a slut."
"No, she's not. But she is pretty hot."
"Only pretty hot? That girl's sex on legs. And she's a slut."
"Fine, maybe. I suppose that's why Darcy likes her."
Was that all guys thought about? Was that why Darcy had had his tongue down another girl's throat? Did men just want a mindless chick with great boobs and stunning legs? Lizzie tried to brush the thoughts away. This wasn't the right time. But the thought remained. It had only been two days since Lizzie had broken up with Darcy, and the whole school had been talking about 'the other girl.'
So maybe Lizzie could understand why Charlotte wanted to give Mr Collins a go. But honestly, Mr Collins?
"Jane, I need a distraction. Let's go get a drink."
She didn't wait for an answer before making her way to the bar. That was one perk of an incredibly posh party, at least.
Lizzie wove through the crowd, careful not to tread on people again. Where was Charlotte? And where was Jane? Lizzie thought Jane had followed her, but obviously not. She was nowhere to be found - the crowd had swallowed her. She decided that she would find Charlotte again after getting her drink.
"Like the party?"
The voice was a jarring note. Lizzie stopped walking toward the bar and turned around. Her eyes narrowed.
"Why would you care what I thought?" she spat.
She walked quickly away from him, weaving through the crowd in an attempt to lose the man tailing her. She didn't look to see whether she had lost him. Lizzie just went forward, trying to escape him. Could he tell what she was thinking about?
"Lizzie, you can't do this."
"Do what?" she yelled over the noise, still walking forwards.
Darcy suddenly appeared in front of her. Lizzie scowled and pushed him away, walking in the other direction.
"This!"
Lizzie stopped walking and bit her lip, trying to calm herself down. She was being silly. Why was she running away? No, she wasn't running away, she was just trying to go get a drink. But that was a big fat lie. She was running away. From him, of all people! He was supposed to run away from her. Like he always did.
"I'm not doing anything. I'm getting a drink from the bar."
The bar was at the other side of the room now for some reason. She could see Darcy's disbelief. Lizzie grimaced, wondering how she had ended up on the other side of where she wanted to be. She hastily made her way back towards the bar. Maybe he would leave her alone, now that she actually was going to the bar. Who was she kidding?
"Lizzie, will you just let me speak for once?" Darcy asked.
"Oh, are we back to first name terms?" asked Lizzie acidly.
"Miss Bennet, are we going to be civilised or not?"
Lizzie continued weaving her way through the crowd, trying to ignore the fact that a flustered man in a tuxedo was following her. A drink. She needed a lot of it right then.
"What do you have?" asked Lizzie loudly, ignoring Darcy who was sliding into the seat next to her.
The bartender was a middle aged man with a moustache and a mop of ash blonde hair. He winked when he saw Lizzie, much to Lizzie's disgust. She was in no mood for flirts, or lecherous men.
"For you, I'd suggest a piña colada or maybe the El Presidente." said the bartender, leaning over the counter.
"Something stronger."
"A vodka martini? Or a Zombie cocktail?" he suggested, slightly confused.
"None of them thank you." said a clipped voice.
Lizzie's brow twitched when she heard Darcy. Did he think he could order her around now? Well, he was dead wrong.
"Zombie cocktail, actually." replied Lizzie, daring Darcy to say something.
The bartender glanced from Lizzie to Darcy, wondering what to do. Lizzie peered at Darcy sideways, unwilling to look at him directly. Was he going to challenge her once more?
"Get it, please." said Lizzie, satisfied when Darcy remained silent.
"Lizzie, what are you doing?" asked Darcy vehemently.
"Mr Darcy, I'd like to ask you the same question."
Lizzie still refused to look at him. Instead, she pretended to examine her nails, which were painted an aqua colour. Maybe he would take the hint and leave her alone, like he had been doing for the whole week. But there was no sign that he was going to go. Why wouldn't he leave when she wanted him to so badly?
"Miss Bennet, this is ridiculous! Why can't we have a civilised conversation? That's all I ask, Miss Bennet. A civilised conversation."
"We were being civilised. Until you decided to choose what I drink." replied Lizzie stubbornly.
Darcy groaned, "Is it that bad that I care about your well being?"
Lizzie bit the inside of her mouth. He cared? Since when did he care? Lizzie turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed in contempt. She looked him up and down, and then finally lifted her eyebrows skeptically.
"Since when did you start caring about my well being?" she whispered dangerously.
Darcy looked taken back, but he refused to look away from Lizzie's flashing eyes. He took in a breath before he dared to reply.
"I don't. But this is just ridiculous!"
Lizzie's eyebrows swooped into neutral position as her whole face went stone blank. How could he say it like that? Lizzie's hand twitched involuntarily, as if it was about to slap Darcy across the face again. Lizzie took in a slow breath. She wasn't going to lose control. Not again.
"You think I'm doing this just to annoy you?" asked Lizzie flatly.
Darcy crossed his arms.
"Yes."
Lizzie lifted an eyebrow and looked at him. She didn't look at him directly, but she hoped it was enough to unnerve him. She wanted him to look away. She wanted him to look uncomfortable and fidget. But he didn't.
"Not everything's about you, Mr Darcy." said Lizzie lowly.
"And not everything's about you! Just talk to me, will you?"
An obvious note of exasperation was in Darcy's tone. Despite Darcy's cool exterior, Lizzie had a feeling that she was irritating him after all. Lizzie wondered how much he was actually holding back. What was this actually about? Darcy had ignored Lizzie for the whole week, but now he suddenly wanted to talk to her. Could anyone blame Lizzie for trying to brush him off?
Lizzie leaned in sharply. Darcy found himself staring straight into her darkened hazel eyes.
"Want a talk? Okay. Mr Darcy, how are you today? Good? Well, if you want to stay that way, I think you'd better stop trying to 'talk' to me. So, goodbye. Please, don't drop by." hissed Lizzie. She moved to go.
"Lizzie." whispered Darcy.
Something in Darcy's voice made Lizzie stop. Her face flushed, realizing how close they were. So close, that she could see the tiny freckles on his nose and the lighter tints in his sapphire colour eyes. She could see every detail, including his lips. Lizzie felt blood rush to her head, making her feel slightly dizzy. This wasn't right.
What about all those damned whisperings?
What about all those people sneering at her in the corridor?
What about that cold look of indifference on Darcy's face?
But those thoughts were disappearing like a bullet.
Darcy didn't know what he was doing. All he could see was Lizzie's lips. All he could hear was her soft breathing. Everything else had disappeared into fuzz. He slowly leaned towards her, surprised when she leaned in as well. He could feel her breathing on his cheek. Nine years. It had been nine years since…
"Asshole."
Darcy blinked as Lizzie suddenly leaned away. A look of utter disgust had crossed her face.
"Did you think that this was a quick and easy way to get yourself laid? 'Oh, I haven't done her for nine years, so maybe it's time to do so again!' Is that what you're thinking? I'm not eighteen anymore, Mr Darcy. I'm not going to do it with you again just because I'm the head cheerleader and you're the basketball captain."
Darcy watched in astonishment as Lizzie took her Zombie cocktail, downed it in one large gulp and walked away from him. What was he thinking? Oh, he knew what he was thinking. He just…shouldn't have been thinking those things. Darcy closed his eyes, reigning in a roar of frustration. Why was he so stupid?
Lizzie walked away quickly without looking back, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. He had been so close. Lizzie grimaced, thinking about the way he had looked at her. Why was her heart beating so fast? Gosh, what had Jane discussed with him?
Lizzie seriously wanted to know now, despite her resolve not to ask Jane. What did he want from her? What was this sudden change?
"Lizzie! Come here!"
Lizzie whipped around, trying to find the source of the voice. Her eyes eventually landed on Jane, who was standing close to a man. Trust Jane to have a guy around her already. Jane was a man magnet, though she always seemed to attract some of the wimpiest guys alive. They weren't as bad as Mr Collins, but they were bad enough. Lizzie shuddered as she remembered Pete the Punk Wannabe and Wayne the Wanker. Hopefully this man wasn't one of those.
"Lizzie!" called Jane again.
The man was smiling candidly at Lizzie as if they were childhood friends. He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, with a slightly lanky appearance. Lizzie smiled in return when the man offered his hand bashfully, which Lizzie took after a split second's hesitation. So – he was a gentleman.
He could very much be said to be a male version of Jane.
Well, he didn't have twenty piercings and a Mohawk, and he didn't have a cloud of smoke around him. So far, he fit Lizzie's criteria of a "respectable man." If he was lucky, the man would graduate to "respectable man for Jane" in two weeks time.
"Jane, where did you find this person?" asked Lizzie, smiling.
"After you ditched me, Charles asked me to dance." explained Jane simply.
"So I take it that you're Charles?" said Lizzie.
"Call me Charlie. Charles makes me sound like an old grandpa. So you must be Lizzie?"
Lizzie grinned. She decided she liked this man. He was direct, straightforward, and honest. His voice was pleasant, which was a good change from Larry and – dare she think of him - Darcy. He definitely knew how to make a good impression. It would suck if he turned out to be a tool in disguise, though.
"Yes, I'm Elizabeth. But yeah, call me Lizzie."
"Nice to meet you, Lizzie. Jane's told me a lot about you."
"All good things, I hope." said Lizzie, eyeing Jane who merely smiled.
"All good things, I assure you."
Lizzie rolled her eyes. That didn't need to be assured. Jane was guaranteed to say positive things, no matter whom it was. She believed in the inner goodness of every human being, something that Lizzie had never been able to do. Even a criminal would be given a favourable description. Seriously, if Jane ran the criminal system, no one would be in the jails.
"So who are you here with?" asked Lizzie.
The guy couldn't have come alone, after all.
"I'm here with my sister, Caroline Bingley and my friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy."
Charlie immediately dropped from "respectable" to "tool" in a split second. He was a tool in disguise after all. Lizzie looked at Jane, her mouth open in an "oh." Jane smiled helplessly and shrugged. Lizzie grimaced, but then smiled when she realized Charlie was still talking to her.
"So how's the ball for you?" asked Lizzie lamely. She was still discreetly looking at Jane, who was still shrugging.
"One of the best I've ever been to, actually."
"Really? Why?"
"I suppose it's because of the people here. Talking to various people has been most delightful."
Lizzie didn't miss the slight flicker as Charlie glanced at Jane before looking back at her. She also saw Jane's cheeks color and Charlie's cheeks color in response. Friend of Darcy or not, this man was sweet and seemingly a true gentleman. Lizzie sighed inwardly, trying to detach the connections between her thoughts on Charlie and her thoughts on Darcy.
"My, who do we have here?" drawled an all too familiar voice.
Before Lizzie could say anything, she found herself being twirled around by strong arms. She squeaked, hoping she wasn't going to kiss the floor. Lizzie was going to kill Larry if she did, though. She was going to kill him twice if her dress was ripped in the process.
"Larry! This-isn't-funny!" yelped Lizzie, finding herself inches from the floor.
"Isn't it?" laughed Larry.
Lizzie gave Larry a warning glare before he righted her.
"Aw Lizzie, don't look at me like that. Most girls would have thought that was incredibly romantic."
"Romantic my ass. Is the dress alright?"
Lizzie examined her dress, looking worriedly for a rip. She sighed in relief when she didn't find any.
"See? I'm pro at twirling, okay?"
Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Sure, Larry. You're pro at everything and anything if it suits you."
"Most definitely."
"So what is it?" asked Lizzie, crossing her arms.
"Can't I ask a lovely lady to a dance?"
Larry bowed theatrically and stretched out his arm for Lizzie to take. Standard Larry, Lizzie thought. But Lizzie laughed and took his arm, letting him lead her to the dance floor. Larry looked exceptional, with his black tuxedo and slicked back hair. Not that Lizzie would say that to his face. His ego was big enough as it was.
"So what do you think of the ball?" asked Larry while he lead Lizzie in a waltz.
"Did Mr Darcy plan it?" asked Lizzie lightly.
"No, of course not! Some pros did it, I think. If Darcy planned it, this ball would be an empty room with a DJ." said Larry with a shudder.
"Then yeah, it's a good ball."
Larry's blue eyes twinkled.
"You and Darcy sure do have some issues. Big ones."
"Remind me of what you said to me last week, because I've just forgotten." replied Lizzie dryly.
"Fine, I'll keep my word and not say anything. But really…"
"Don't 'but really' me, Larry."
Larry laughed, pulling Lizzie through a spin as the music came to a climax. Lizzie smiled as she pulled of the spin with ease. Ballroom dancing had never been her strong point. The requirement of moving in time with another person was just too much. However, dancing with Larry was incredibly easy. He led well, she admitted.
"Okay, I won't 'but really' you. So who's Charlotte with?" asked Larry.
Lizzie glanced around the ballroom, trying to catch sight of her strawberry blonde friend. She couldn't see Charlotte anywhere.
"Where is she?"
"I saw her at the bar a couple of minutes ago with some man. So tell me, who is the guy?" asked Larry curiously.
"My landlord." said Lizzie reluctantly.
Larry laughed even louder, though he continued leading. He even pulled her into another twirl and dip, this time without Lizzie complaining.
"The guy's a pompous fool."
"No he's not! He's a perfectly res-"
Lizzie's eyes widened when she realized what she was saying. She was defending Howard Collins. Was she crazy? She wanted – no, needed – to take back the words. Too bad words couldn't be erased. Not so quickly, at least.
"You were saying?" asked Larry, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." said Lizzie, mortified.
"Say what you were going to say, Lizzie!"
"No. I refuse to say it. What was I going to say anyway?"
Lizzie looked mock thoughtful, knowing that it probably wasn't convincing. It was hard to think and dance at the same time.
"Whatever. Ah, I came so close to something I could blackmail you with in the future."
Larry looked wistful. Lizzie deliberately stomped on his foot.
"Ow! That was uncalled for," yelped Larry.
"What? I can't help it if I'm uncoordinated."
Larry glared at Lizzie. She grinned, but abruptly stopped when Larry pulled her through a series of twists and turns that left her clinging onto him for dear life.
"What? I can't help being so much better at this than you." drawled Larry, in reply to Lizzie's glare.
"Larry, you're so full of yourself." laughed Lizzie.
Larry merely smiled pensively and twirled Lizzie around slowly as the song finished. The dancers clapped and cheered as the band members bowed. Lizzie and Larry clapped as well, laughing together.
"It's good to hear you laugh again, Lizzie." Larry whispered after the applause.
"I have been rather grouchy lately, haven't I?" replied Lizzie after a pause.
"No kidding! It was like some person shoved a poker up your ass."
Lizzie whacked Larry's arm, but didn't say anything. It was true. She had been rather uptight with everyone lately, ever since she found out that she was working for Darcy. Lizzie made a mental note to laugh more and seem less like an uptight prick. After all, she didn't want to act like him.
Another song started, this time a lively salsa.
"Another dance?" asked Larry, holding out his hand once more.
"Maybe not. How about a drink instead?"
"Sounds good to me."
Larry held out his arm for Lizzie, which Lizzie took after a moment of hesitation. Why was Larry being so nice, even though Lizzie had been so nasty to him? Perhaps she had judged him too quickly. It would probably be better if she cut him some slack, possibly starting from then.
The same bartender was still at the bar, beaming as Lizzie approached again.
"Another Zombie cocktail?" asked the bartender.
"I think I'll settle for a soda, thank you." replied Lizzie, grimacing. She didn't want to repeat the experience of drinking (well, swallowing) a Zombie so soon.
"Sure thing. And how about you, mister?"
"Vodka martini, please." said Larry.
"Shaken, not stirred?" asked the bartender, smiling.
Lizzie rolled her eyes when Larry laughed, calling the bartender a "capital fellow." Perhaps he looked gallant in his tuxedo, but James Bond? No, Larry simply could not be trusted with a mission a whole country's safety hinged upon. But maybe he could pull off the womanizer part.
"I thought I saw your sister again. She's here, right?" asked Larry.
"Yeah, she is. The one in the gold dress."
"She looks nice."
Lizzie smiled. "She always looks nice, Larry. She is nice."
Larry looked thoughtful.
"She didn't seem so nice when she talked to Darce." he said.
Curiosity burned Lizzie's throat, urging her to ask Larry what he knew about Jane and Darcy's talk. But something kept it in check, though she opened and closed her mouth a few times. Lizzie bowed her head, looking away from Larry.
"Here's the soda for madam and the vodka martini for sir." said the bartender, thrusting the drinks forward.
"Thanks." muttered Lizzie. She was glad of the distraction.
"Ah. My favourite." said Larry.
Lizzie watched in astonishment when Larry upended the cocktail and drained it in one gulp. Then she laughed as he grinned and delicately ate the olive, pulling faces as he did. Did he not care about getting drunk? Well, he could probably hold his liquor really well. Or maybe he was just a tad crazy.
"Thirsty." explained Larry.
Lizzie smiled as she sipped her soda, "Not scared of hangovers?"
"Definitely not. You know, the best way not to get a hangover is to drink water before you go to sleep. It's always worked."
Lizzie tilted her head back slightly and laughed softly.
"Don't believe me then." sniffed Larry in mock disdain, "See if I care if you come to work with a splitting headache someday. I'll be the one saying 'I told you so'."
"You wouldn't say that." laughed Lizzie.
"Why not?"
"Because of this." And Lizzie flicked an ice cube out of her soda straight onto Larry's face.
Larry spluttered loudly, wiping his face with a handkerchief.
"That was uncalled for as well!"
Lizzie laughed and started to edge away, but Larry grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"Lizzie, you will apologize!" exclaimed Larry, though he was smiling.
"For what? I see nothing worth apologising for. Actually, I'd say you deserved it."
"No I didn't! What did I do, aside from giving you some friendly advice?"
Lizzie merely flicked Larry's nose with her fingers, making him flinch. But she immediately regretted doing so when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into an uncomfortably tight hug.
"Have I said you look beautiful yet?" he whispered while Lizzie was crushed to his chest.
"Can't – breathe!" gasped Lizzie, pushing herself away from Larry.
"Did you hear? You look beautiful tonight, Lizzie."
Lizzie blushed slightly at the compliment and tucked a stray lock of hair. Larry was gazing at her intently, his blue eyes dancing in the light. Did he want her to reply?
"You don't look too bad yourself." she replied loftily.
"Only 'not too bad'? Lizzie, I'm mortified."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you." snapped Lizzie, "I'm going."
Larry merely laughed and waved his hand dismissively.
"Another vodka martini please." he asked as Lizzie walked away. Lizzie shook her head. He was crazy after all.
But Lizzie smiled, remembering his compliment. He was sweet in his own strange way. He was ridiculous, but he was also gallant. And the way he had looked at her…
Lizzie shivered. That was dangerous territory.
"There you are Lizzie! I've been looking for you everywhere."
Charlotte suddenly burst from a group of people and immediately grabbed Lizzie's arm, dragging her to a mosaic pillar.
"How's dancing with Mr Collins?" asked Lizzie.
"Fun. He's not too great at ballroom, but he's passable." replied Charlotte hesitantly.
Lizzie lifted a sceptical eyebrow. If he was passable, then why were Charlotte's feet marked with several strange pink markings? Obviously Mr Collins had tread on her feet a large number of times. Lizzie wondered how Charlotte could stand it and not complain.
"I know, who am I kidding? But really, he's a nice man." sighed Charlotte.
"I've just used up my quota of snarky remarks for the night, so don't worry. I'm not going to say anything." said Lizzie sympathetically.
"Yeah well…I wouldn't blame you if you did, really. So how's your night?"
Lizzie glanced around the hall, checking to see if anyone was listening. It wouldn't do if someone was eavesdropping. But then Lizzie froze when she saw Darcy and Charles standing on the other side of their pillar.
"Lizzie?" asked Charlotte, confused.
"Shh!"
Lizzie pointed at Darcy and Charles, which immediately shut Charlotte up. Lizzie felt her face burn, knowing that she was about to eavesdrop. But curiosity gripped her like a vice and forced her to stand there silently, straining to hear what the men were saying.
Sure enough the conversation reached Lizzie's ears, loud and clear.
"Really Darcy, you've been moping here for the better half of the evening already! This is your ball, you're supposed to dance!"
Lizzie could imagine Darcy's glare.
"If this is my ball, then I get to decide what I want to do." replied Darcy through gritted teeth.
"Still, you should dance with someone. I must see you dance." insisted Charles.
"You've seen me dance. I've danced with your sister three times already. I think that's enough dancing."
Lizzie smiled humourlessly at Charlotte, who shrugged her shoulders.
"Why must you be such a grouch? Really, I've never seen such lovely women in my life!"
"That's because you're with the only pretty girl here. Asides from her, they're all pretentious, shallow no-brainers only interested in money and looks. I'm in no mood for them." growled Darcy.
Charlie paused. Well, how would he answer to that brick-ended reply? Lizzie could almost imagine Darcy mentally building a three-foot-thick wall between himself and the rest of the world. He hadn't always been like that, though.
"Jane is lovely, you really must meet her." said Charlie, trying vainly to get Darcy to talk.
"Yes, I know." muttered Darcy.
Charlie paused once more.
"Do you know her?" he asked brightly.
"Yes."
"Why, that's great! It makes introductions so much easier."
"Right."
For a man who used to wax lyrical at every single basketball game, monosyllabic answers were rather bizarre. Why was he like that now?
The answer was right in front of her. He had changed considerably. He'd told her that himself. But she'd brushed him off with an insult. And her insult seemed more like the truth the longer she eavesdropped. He was even less than he was before. But that thought didn't bring any joy.
"Darcy, you really can't be sulking like this all night. Jane's sister Elizabeth is quite pretty and sensible. Why don't you ask her for a dance?" asked Charlie.
Charlotte nudged Lizzie. Then Charlotte jerked her head to the dance floor. Lizzie nodded silently, getting ready to leave discreetly. It was probably the right time to go, since whatever Darcy was going to say wasn't going to be pleasant. Lizzie certainly didn't want to hear an account of her and Darcy's history from Darcy's mouth.
But Darcy's reply came a bit too quickly.
"Charles, you really can't be serious. Her? She's the last girl in the world I'd ask for a dance." scoffed Darcy.
The stormy look on Lizzie's face could have turned people to stone. Lizzie was extremely tempted to go up to Darcy and punch him, but something stopped her. It wasn't worth it. This part of him hadn't changed after all. Lizzie smiled grimly.
Maybe it was rather amusing instead. After their history, it was just a tiny bit ironic how he said she was the last girl he'd ask for a dance. And it occurred to her that if he could insult her like he didn't know her, then she could do so too. Lizzie laughed, finding the strange how an insult was her liberation. She had been so caught up in wondering what Darcy wanted and how he felt. Now she knew. And now she didn't fucking care.
"Mr Darcy's such an asshole…" whispered Charlotte, gripping Lizzie's hand.
"Don't worry, Charlotte. This is rather funny," whispered Lizzie in reply, "But I think it's time to go."
Lizzie didn't bother walking away discreetly. Instead, she walked right by Darcy and Charlie without looking at them, though she wondered what his face would look like. Not that she cared much, though.
"Oh dear." muttered Charlie, watching Lizzie and Charlotte walk by.
Darcy's face was impassive. How much had she heard? It didn't really matter though. She had made it extremely clear she wanted nothing to do with him. So perhaps her hearing the insult wasn't a bad thing. Maybe it could be considered as some sort of liberation. Though he would have preferred it if it hadn't happened.
"Charles, get back to Jane." murmured Darcy, leaning tiredly on the pillar.
"Darcy, that girl just heard you -!"
"I know, alright?" growled Darcy, "But I can't do anything about it now, can I? Just get back to your lovely Jane. You won't have much fun with me."
Charlie patted Darcy's shoulder before leaving. Darcy crossed his arms, but then scratched his head. What was done was done. That was the bad thing about words; you couldn't take them back. Not fully, at least. He'd just have to live with a Lizzie who hated his guts for all eternity. That little insult had just sealed his fate.
"Why do I learn nothing in nine years?" he whispered to himself.
"Don't know. 'Cause you're a Darcy?" said a slurred voice.
Darcy turned to glare at Larry, but stopped when he noted Larry's lopsided grin and swaying figure.
"Larry, please tell me this isn't what I think it is."
"I no have. I mean, I not have…forget it." muttered Larry.
"Maybe you should call a taxi and get home." suggested Darcy coldly.
This wasn't a rare occurrence. Larry always drank more than he should, no matter what Darcy told him. He always ended up swaying and half passed out, but he never seemed to learn his lesson. He didn't seem to care. Sure, Larry hadn't gone and tattooed himself or something just as bad while drunk, but it was only a matter of time. Larry's drinking was a time bomb that would eventually end with something catastrophic. Darcy only hoped he could try to lessen the impact, or else he'd be forced to send his friend to rehab.
"No. I'm fine. Darce, you party pooper…"
Darcy beckoned one of the waiters over, "Get this man on a taxi home. His address is 32 West, 52nd Street. Make sure he gets there safe."
The waiter bowed after Darcy tucked a few notes in his front pocket.
"Larry, get home now." ordered Darcy.
"Yessir, whatever." mumbled Larry, giving Darcy a wobbly salute.
Darcy sighed as the waiter mutely pushed Larry to the exit. How bad could the night get? He could almost say this was the worst night ever – almost. But it was going to get a lot worse.
"Fitzwilliam, why are you standing here alone?" purred Caroline Bingley.
Darcy checked his instant urge to run a mile away. Of all the pretentious, shallow women that he hated, Caroline had to top the list. But as Charlie's sister, Darcy was obliged to tolerate Caroline's adulation and misconceptions. That is, Caroline had decided that Darcy was madly in love with her, and her with him. Every moment they were together were filled with hints of wedding plans and plans even further down the line. No matter what Darcy said to deter her it always seemed to have an opposite effect. Now Darcy merely avoided her as best he could and went along with whatever she said when he couldn't.
"I'm resting." answered Darcy dully. So please leave me alone. Darcy highly doubted that would happen.
"But you've been here ever since my last dance with you!" exclaimed Caroline, before a large smile spread across her face, "You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Fitzwilliam, that's really sweet, but you should have just gone to find me instead of waiting here like a lost puppy."
Caroline smiled indulgently up at Darcy and took his arm. Darcy roughly removed his arm from her grasp and crossed them. Caroline looked surprised.
"Did something happen? You seem oddly out of sorts. Tell me what happened."
"It's none of your business." snapped Darcy brusquely.
"No, you must tell me! It's not healthy to have all this pent up angst." said Caroline patronizingly.
"Caroline, drop it. It doesn't concern you at all, okay?"
Something about Darcy's tone made Caroline shut up. Darcy turned away from Caroline, looking at the band. If he was lucky, Caroline wouldn't say anything for a while. Yeah right.
"Fitzwilliam, will you dance with me again?" asked Caroline.
Darcy glanced at Caroline and groaned inwardly. He had danced with her three times already, which was three times too much. The first had been punishment, the second torture, and the third total hell. He didn't think he would even survive a fourth.
"I'm tired," Darcy lied. "I'm sure there are plenty of men you can dance with instead of me."
"Them? Those men are complete buffoons. I swear that they don't even know their right from their left! Why are they even here?" complained Caroline.
"Most of those men are my employees." replied Darcy coldly, "So they were invited by me."
That shut Caroline up for a second again. Darcy watched with quiet satisfaction as embarrassment coloured Caroline's cheeks.
"Still, they are nothing compared to you." declared Caroline, quickly recovering.
Darcy sighed, but was saved from replying when the whole ballroom started reverberating with cheers. What was going on? Or was it that time again? It must be. Darcy groaned. This would be even worse than talking with Caroline. The night finally claimed its position as the worst night of his life.
"Come on up, Mr CEO!" called the MC from the stage.
Darcy made his face go blank and walked up to the stage. If he was going to do this again, he might as well do it with dignity.
The crowd cheered even louder as he took up the microphone offered by the MC.
"So who's going to be the lucky lady?" said the MC loudly.
Nearly every woman's hand went up and the noise increased tenfold as the women called out "Me! ME!" Darcy sighed. It was the same every year. He had tried to get rid of it, but he'd been unsuccessful. Apparently, everyone loved to see him disgraced and embarrassed.
"It makes good gossip." That was the answer when he had tried to remove it from the Thanksgiving Ball.
At least it was only once per year. Then he could forget about his "performance" after a month of continual allusions, mainly from Larry. Darcy was suddenly glad Larry had gotten drunk and gone home.
"All right! This lovely woman at the front, please come up here."
There was a scuffle, before a loud "Fine!" Darcy frowned slightly, wondering what was happening. He understood once he saw the lady walking up the stage.
Dammit, it was Lizzie.
Lizzie glared at the MC, before taking her place stiffly next to Darcy. She'd tried to slip away, but Charlotte had gripped her arm to stop her. Then the whole crowd had turned against her and basically pushed her onto the stage. She was going to make Charlotte pay later, but right now she was concentrating on not killing the MC for picking her.
"So what song will it be?" asked the MC.
"Are we singing a song?" muttered Lizzie sulkily.
"Yes. Pick a song."
Lizzie liked singing, but right now she cursed whoever invented singing and songs. She refused to look at Darcy, though she could feel his gaze on her. The whole crowd was silent, waiting for them to come to a decision.
"Quickly," muttered Darcy.
Lizzie lifted her eyebrows. He had the audacity to even talk to her? Well, now she knew the perfect song to sing. She whispered it to the MC, who smiled and quickly told the band. Lizzie smiled smugly as she heard the first few notes of the song. Darcy was going to flip.
You walked into the party
Like you were walking onto a yacht
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye
Your scarf it was apricot
You had one eye in the mirror
As you watched yourself gavotte
And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner
They'd be your partner,
Lizzie looked at Darcy from the corner of her eye as she sang. To her surprise he looked stone blank. But she completely missed how tightly he was gripping his mike. In fact, it looked like the mike was about to snap in two. Was Darcy even going to be able to sing?
And,
You're so vain
You probably think this song is about you
You're so vain
I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't you?
Lizzie's eyes flashed as she turned to face Darcy, letting the words mean something. Though he should know the song was about him, she was letting the punch line strike him fiercely (Don't you? Don't you?) before she walked to the other side of the stage, away from him.
Darcy took in a small, shuddering breath, before he opened his mouth to sing. He was surprised when his voice came out loud and clear, though his hand refused to relax on the mike.
You had me several years ago
When I was still quite naive
Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair
And that you would never leave
But you gave away the things you loved
And one of them was me
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee,
The words weren't right for him. He knew it, as he watched Lizzie turn to face him again. Lizzie's mouth was pursed tightly. Darcy knew she was livid. But did she think the break-up hadn't hurt him too? Did she think that way? He still remembered how coldly she had told him it was over. He still remembered how she flatly refused to even look at him afterwards.
They could have worked it out. He could have told her the truth.
And,
You're so vain
You probably think this song is about you
You're so vain
I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't you?
But she knew it was about her. Lizzie walked back to Darcy, her head high, locked in a look of challenging defiance. Darcy lifted an eyebrow. He wasn't going to back down. Lizzie hated him already, so it didn't matter. It didn't matter if he took her challenge and brought her down.
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee, and
They were singing in unison, both as loud as the other, both staring the other down. The crowd cheered loudly, almost seeing a spark fly between the two on the stage. But Lizzie and Darcy didn't hear them. They could only see each other and hear each other. No one was going to back down.
You're so vain
You probably think this song is about you
You're so vain
I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't you?
They knew the song was about each other, though. Who was vainer? The answer was always the other. Lizzie couldn't forgive Darcy's vanity any more than Darcy could understand hers. It was a stalemate.
Well, I hear you went up to Saratoga
And your horse naturally won
Then you flew your Lear jet up to Nova Scotia
To see the total eclipse of the sun
Well, you're where you should be all the time
And when you're not, you're with
Some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend
Wife of a close friend,
And,
You're so vain
You probably think this song is about you
You're so vain
I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't you?
Everything was silent. The last notes of the song disappeared. Lizzie blinked, as the bubble formed by the song vanished. Then her eyes widened. Why was she so close to Darcy? She could hear his breath. She could feel his gaze. His dark blue eyes still looked straight at her, as if the song hadn't finished yet. They were so similar…
A feeling of guilt fell over Lizzie like a thunderous waterfall. Lizzie couldn't breathe. How could she? How could she? Lizzie turned away from Darcy, unable to face him. She turned to the crowd, not looking at them.
Suddenly, the ballroom erupted as everyone clapped and cheered. Darcy blinked, realizing that he had come close to belting out the last chorus of the song. He'd only been looking at Lizzie. He'd only seen her and heard her voice. Nothing else had mattered during the minutes of the song. She'd challenged him, he remembered. She'd had that look, the look he remembered from nine years ago.
Lizzie wanted to run off the stage. She could still feel Darcy's gaze on her, as if he was boring two holes into her skull. Did he know? No, he couldn't. Shame crept into Lizzie's limbs. How could she lift her head, after what she had done? She'd done something terrible. But it was because of him. It all started with him. Right?
"Weren't they incredible, everyone?" hollered the MC, smiling widely, "Will we have another round of applause?"
The ballroom reverberated once more, making Lizzie wince. This was too much. Lizzie quickly passed her mike to the MC before she flew off the stage. She didn't care if everyone commented about it later. She just had to get away.
The bathroom. That's where she needed to go.
Lizzie could hear someone call her name over the cheers of the crowd, but she kept moving. She didn't stop until she was the under the harsh lighting of the ladies' bathroom. It was only then that Lizzie sighed, covered her face and leaned heavily on the basin.
"Lizzie, are you alright?" asked Jane, bursting into the bathroom.
Lizzie smiled up at Jane. It wasn't surprising that Jane had followed her.
"Nothing happened, Jane." replied Lizzie, "I'm not some bomb that would go off just because of…that."
Jane surveyed Lizzie quietly. An unreadable fire lit up Lizzie's eyes, but there was still a slight paleness to Lizzie's cheeks despite the rouge. What was she thinking? It was hard to tell, with only that little hint.
"I know. So how was your night?" Jane unsuccessfully tried to change the atmosphere. Lizzie's expression instantly adopted a smile, but it was obviously forced. Slowly, Lizzie's face darkened. Jane waited, knowing Lizzie was going to ask. Finally.
"Tell me what you discussed with him." murmured Lizzie, "I know I told you not to, but tell me."
Jane bit her lip lightly. How much of the conversation could she tell Lizzie?
"I asked him why. He said he wanted to show you that he had changed for the better. But he told me you'd slapped him. I told him it would be hard, because of the past. I didn't tell him everything, alright? But I said that there was far more than a sour break-up. I told him he has to understand that. And…Lizzie, I really think he's trying. He wants to become acquaintances. He wants a fresh start…"
Lizzie laughed humourlessly. She'd heard it all before. It didn't sound any more sincere the second time around, even though it came from Jane's mouth.
"Is that why he said I was the last girl in the world he'd ask to dance with?" asked Lizzie.
Jane frowned, "When did he say that?"
"Tonight. I heard him talking to your Charlie somewhere." replied Lizzie vaguely.
"When you eavesdrop, you don't always hear the nicest things," sighed Jane.
Lizzie opened her mouth to retort, but then the bathroom door swung open loudly and Charlotte walked in, looking rather flustered.
"I've been looking for you everywhere, Lizzie! And where do you turn up – in the bathroom! Lizzie, you are never going to do that again." exclaimed Charlotte.
Lizzie grinned, "Don't worry. I don't think there's going to be a next time like this so soon."
"What are you talking about? The Christmas ball is just around the corner!"
Lizzie's eyes widened. If the Christmas ball was anything like this, she was definitely not going. No matter what Charlotte told her, she was not going. Lizzie wasn't even going to care about being blackmailed.
"Don't look like that. It doesn't have that stupid 'sing with the CEO' thing, alright?" reassured Charlotte tersely.
"I'm not saying anything definite." muttered Lizzie.
"Anyway, shall we get going?" interrupted Jane before Charlotte could reply, "I think the ball's over."
So it was. Everyone was drifting out of the doors, still chatting amongst each other. They were all smiling and laughing, with an air of satisfaction about them. The atmosphere was still so very jovial; so very dissimilar to Lizzie's mood. Why did she feel so drained?
"Come on Lizzie, let's go as well." murmured Jane.
Lizzie smiled weakly and followed Jane and Charlotte out of the bathroom.
So much for a happy Thanksgiving.
FINALLY an update! And hopefully it was a good one too. Anyway, this will be it for a while - until after graduation. Then I'll be able to write more.
Thanks for reading!