EFFERVESCENT
bubbly

The champagne sits perfectly chilled between her fingers. Her dress falls an easy, elegant line to the floor. All around, nobles and dignitaries laugh and talk freely as the liquor pours continuously. She stands with an aging councilor, forever stroking his beard and murmuring about the rising price of corn. Lux bobs her head politely, stifling a yawn.

It's another of Demacia's bi-annual galas. Held in the grand ballroom of Leoghtingham Palace, invited guests are treated to an evening of fine food, pleasant music, and cultured company. In other words, the gala was a flimsy excuse for various iterations of blue blood to bask in their supposed importance.

Lux thinks it a gigantic waste of time. Her wandering eye catches the sharp gaze of her mother. She stiffens and, pasting her smile more firmly on, she attends more carefully to the councilor.

"I say, Lady Luxanna." Lord Windsor says. "You have grown since I last saw you. Why, I could have sworn you were but a child only a year ago."

"You flatter me, my lord." She demurs.

"If you don't mind me asking, do you have a special gentleman in your sights? A beautiful woman, such as yourself, must never be in short of beaus."

"I… can't say that I have."

The councilor laughs then. "You better find one and soon, before your bloom fades. Then no one will marry you. What a tragedy that would be."

Lux purses her lips, breathing in sharply through her nose. "With all due respect, councilor, I think I'll survive."

That's when she spots it - a quick flash of familiar blue. She starts, nearly dropping her drink. No. It couldn't be. Her eyes dart from side to side, searching the crowd. But she doesn't see the blue again. It was a preposterous thought. Lux knew she was crazy but surely not this bold, this daring. Her eyes were only playing tricks on her, a desperate bid for distraction from the endless boredom. There was really no way. She wouldn't. She couldn't.

"Lady Luxanna?"

"My apologies, sir. I was preoccupied. Could you please repeat yourself?"

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. I was simply thinking you would make a fine mother someday, hopefully soon. Nothing strengthens Demacia more than a new generation of sons, I always say."

And Lux could reply with a soft "ah". She brightens her smile, swallowing her heated lump of fury.

All of a sudden, there's a loud yell, followed by a deafening crash. A voice, tiptoeing just on the edge of recognizable, shouts above the din.

"FIRE!"

The guards react quickly to the declaration. Before Lux can fully process this sudden turn of events, a wall of armor is gently but hurriedly escorting her out the door. The room is filled with panicked noises of attendees and the rushing sound of footsteps against marble. Lux is caught in the evacuating stream of bodies. Just as she passes through the doorway, a hand firmly grasps her elbow and pulls her aside. Then she is running, swiftly through the darkened corridors, dragged behind the mad, cackling Jinx. She would, she could, and she did.

"Jinx, what the - !"

"This is a prison break, Flashlight! Come on! Keep up!"

They rush down the halls, making sharp twists and turns. Wrestling with the length of her skirt and the height of her heels, Lux doesn't realize where they were headed until they burst onto the patio. Jinx stops then, spreading her arms wide and turning to face Lux.

They're in the garden. The crescent moon spills down, illuminating the flowers, the leaves, the grass all dewy from recent rains. The drops of water greedily absorb and reflect the light, in such a way as if to convince Lux that the stars have fallen. And Jinx smiles, with arms thrown open, as if to say the stars have fallen just for her.

For that one moment, Lux can't breathe.

Then Jinx steps aside, gesturing at the motorcycle parked behind her. And it was all Lux could do not to fall over laughing. It was so very Jinx.

"You own a motorcycle?"

"Nope."

Lux raises her brows, studying the vehicle. She notices the roman numerals for 6 spray painted on the engine. She shakes her head because, of course.

Far off in the distance, Lux can still hear the panicked voices of the guests. She bites her lip.

"You didn't actually set fire to anything, did you?"

"Do you actually care?" Jinx replies, walking over to her stolen bike. "You should be happy I didn't go in, guns blazing."

"Oh, yes. Well done. A golden cookie for not killing anyone."

Jinx swings a leg over the seat and settles down comfortably. She flashes a toothy grin. "Glad to see my efforts are appreciated."

Lux rolls her eyes.

There's a mild roar as the motorbike rumbles to life. Jinx revs up the engine, quirking a single, challenging brow.

"So, what do you say, Flashlight?"

Lux doesn't think. She won't let herself think. She only hikes up her dress and kicks off her shoes. Duty dictates she go back. She should ensure the safety and comfort of the guests. She should present a shining example of Demacian integrity. But Lux doesn't care about duty.

What she wants is this, as Jinx kicks up the bikestand and pops a wheelie. They tear through the gardens, flattening a rose bush or two on the way out. The wind whips through her hair, freeing it from the complicated up do. And then Lux is screaming, a senseless sound of pure joy to match Jinx's laughter.

"Carpe diem, motherfucker!"

This is what she wants, times like these when the world falls away and off her shoulders. This is what she asked from Jinx, these minutes, these seconds of raw abandon. She'll take whatever she can get, hoarding all these moments, these fleeting, fragile moments lost in the wind.