This content may include mature situations, which may encompass scenes depicting teenagers in adult situations including alcohol consumption, strong language, and suggestive situations. Additional, more specific warnings will be provided at the start of chapters if deemed necessary. Reader discretion is advised.
Warnings of alcohol and implied drug use. Be advised.
Chapter Five-Eyes Without a Face
Riven glared at his reflection in the mirror, feeling exhausted and annoyed. It was barely a few months into the start of the semester, and every weekend seemed to be packed with parties or hangouts and dates with Musa, leaving him with barely enough time to study. Unlike the pampered princes that were so rampant at Red Fountain, Riven knew that he couldn't afford to fail a single subject. His scholarship depended on passing grades, and after his unfortunate involvement with the Trix a few years ago, it was already hanging by a fragile thread.
However Riven couldn't blame his sour mood on just his overwhelming social and academic commitments, he knew that wasn't the whole issue.
The past continued to haunt him, as memories he had long suppressed resurfaced in his dreams. Even in his waking hours, the most mundane things had started to bring up memories of his past. The more he pushed these thoughts away, the more they consumed him, leaving him feeling trapped and suffocated by the weight of his own mind.
He blamed Mirta entirely as everything had started the night of that ill fated tarot reading. He couldn't quite figure out how Mirta's vision and his dreams fit together. It felt like his intuition was trying to tell him something important, but he couldn't understand what it meant.
With a deep breath, he reminded himself to stay focused on his studies and training, no matter what distractions came his way.
And Musa.
He couldn't forget about Musa. Their relationship was still new, and he wanted things to work out between them. He wanted her to be happy, and he knew that he needed to make time for her too.
In this case it meant pushing all other things aside and going to a party with her.
So he ran gel through his hair, sprayed on cologne, and attempted to summon a smile that wouldn't appear as menacing as his usual expression.
His brooding was interrupted by a loud, sharp knock.
"Brandon and Sky are already waiting near the entrance for us." his roommate Helia said from the other side of the door of their shared bathroom.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming," Riven grumbled.
Exiting the bathroom, Riven sat on the couch and began lacing his boots up. He spared a glance at his second roommate, Timmy, who was also sitting on the couch and furiously typing away on his laptop. He had been that way for at least an hour and made no indication that he would be stopping anytime soon.
"You're not joining us tonight, Poindexter?" Riven asked.
Timmy paused his typing and adjusted his glasses. "Actually, Tecna and I have plans with our gaming group tonight. So, neither of us will be attending tonight."
"Just make sure you disinfect the couch when you're done with your 'game'. Other people sit there." Riven snarked.
Timmy immediately blushed from Riven's implication. "I-It's nothing like that!" he stammered. "It's an online RPG. We'll be playing with other people too. A-and I would never-I mean- that's- me and Tecna aren't-"
Riven laughed at the flustered Timmy. Picking on his nerdy teammate always managed to lift his mood. Helia exited the bathroom and shook his head at Riven in disapproval. "Leave Timmy alone and let's go."
Riven's mood lightened slightly. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad.
Aisha tightened the laces on her running shoes and stepped out into the crisp, early evening air. Tecna had already headed out for her game night with Timmy, while the other girls were busy with their pre-game activities, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the boys who would escort them to the party
Aisha felt a twinge of envy, knowing she couldn't join them. She hadn't been dishonest when she explained her situation to the girls, the likelihood that her parents had someone spying on her was high. Her parents had never changed their minds on anything once a decision had been made, which made their sudden approval of her return to Alfea highly suspicious in Aisha's eyes. The only plausible explanation she could fathom was that they were waiting for her to make a mistake, giving them a legitimate reason to forcibly bring her back to Andros.
She didn't let being left behind bother her though, as it offered Aisha a precious moment of solitude. Her friends were very dear to her, but occasionally, she yearned for the simple pleasure of existing without the presence of others. Running was her cherished escape, and the forest near Alfea served as her sanctuary—a tranquil haven where she found solace far from the clamor of her daily life.
Here, in this wooded retreat, no one disturbed her. She would slip on her headphones, immersing herself in the music, and simply run. All her thoughts and worries were left behind as she allowed her mind to be consumed by the rhythm of the music, propelling her legs to push harder, go faster, and venture farther until her lungs demanded a pause, forcing her to slow down and savor the sweet necessity of each breath.
She began her run, her heart pounding in rhythm with her footsteps as she weaved through the ancient trees, their leaves whispering secrets in the gentle breeze. She ran with no purpose or direction, letting her legs take her wherever as long as they got her there fast. She expertly jogged along a narrow forest path, easily jumping over fallen branches and avoiding moss covered stones.
Eventually, she reached a small, sun-drenched clearing, the day's last light dappling the ground. A babbling stream wound through it, and the sight drew her in. Nearby, a fallen tree offered the perfect seat for a brief rest. Nightfall was approaching; she'd have to return to the school soon.
With her breathing slowing, she closed her eyes, relishing the sunset's warmth and the evening breeze on her skin. Suddenly, a loud splash shattered her serenity, and her eyes flew open in surprise. Someone had just plunged into the stream with an undignified yelp.
Unable to contain herself, Aisha burst into laughter at the absurd spectacle unfolding before her. A young man was thrashing around in the water, his arms flailing like a frantic bird's wings. The stream soaked his clothes, clinging to his shirt and sending his long braided brown hair swirling in all directions like a waterlogged snake. His expression swung wildly between shock, amusement, and embarrassment with each splash.
Drenched and thoroughly mortified, the stranger fought to regain his composure while struggling to regain his footing.
Amid peals of laughter, Aisha called out, "Are you alright?" She rose and approached to offer her assistance.
The young man managed to stand up, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm perfectly fine, just testing the waters, you know?" He sheepishly replied.
Aisha chuckled. "Well, it looks like the water passed your test with flying colors."
"I guess it did." He grinned. "I'm Ophir, by the way."
Aisha wiped a tear of laughter from her eye and extended her hand. "Aisha, nice to meet you, Ophir. You certainly know how to make an entrance."
Their hands met, and their eyes locked for a brief moment, a spark of connection forming between them.
Aisha quickly retracted her hand and Ophir cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry about disturbing you. I was trying to sneak by so I wouldn't disturb you. Unfortunately I happened to slip on something and fall in, completely ruining that plan."
Aisha couldn't help but smile at Ophir's sincerity and charm, even in the midst of his clumsy entrance. "No need to apologize, Ophir. You certainly made this forest a lot more entertaining today."
Ophir's embarrassment began to fade as he returned her smile. "Well, I'm glad I could add a little excitement to your day Princess."
Aisha instantly frowned, her guard going up slightly at the mention of her royal status."How did you know I was a Princess?"
Ophir stumbled over his words, keenly aware of the abrupt shift in Aisha's demeanor. "Oh, I uh, come from a small island on Andros. It would be a great moral failing if I didn't recognize my own planet's Princess."
Aisha's piercing blue eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Ophir, her expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, as if she were silently assessing his character and intentions. A breeze rustled the leaves of the tall, ancient trees surrounding them. "Yes, I am the Princess of Andros. But right now, I'm just Aisha, enjoying a peaceful moment in the woods."
Ophir felt a twinge of relief and offered a shy smile, sensing that he had passed some unspoken test. "Fair enough," he replied, adjusting his wet clothes as he stood.
Aisha returned the smile despite herself. "So, what brings you to this forest today? Besides your unexpected swim, of course."
"Well," Ophir began, his eyes scanning the serene surroundings, "I've always heard stories about the enchanting beauty of this place, and I thought it was time to see it for myself. I figured I'd explore a bit before nightfall."
Aisha nodded, her skepticism giving way to genuine interest. "It truly is a special place," she said, her voice warm. "If you'd like, I can show you some of the hidden gems around here."
"I would appreciate that," Ophir replied, his enthusiasm evident as he couldn't hide the anticipation in his eyes. "But perhaps we should wait for another time when it's not so late and my clothes are not quite so soaked."
The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the landscape, Aisha reluctantly agreed. "True, I should be getting back to Alfea."
Ophir glanced at the darkening sky. "I could escort you if you would like."
Asiah smiled, genuinely appreciative of his offer. "No need, I doubt you would be able to keep up anyways."
Ophir raised an eyebrow playfully, his eyes dancing with a challenge. "Well, we'll have to see about that sometime."
"Indeed we will." Asiah answered.
With that, the two exchanged numbers, their fingers brushing ever so slightly as they passed the phone back and forth. Aisha's phone pinged with a new contact, "Ophir," and she couldn't help but smile.
"I'll see you later then, Ophir," Aisha said, slipping her phone back in her pocket.
Ophir gave her a little bow, a playful twinkle in his eye. "I look forward to it, just Aisha. It's been a pleasure."
Aisha shook her head as she turned to leave, amused at his stupid joke despite herself. She couldn't deny that Ophir was rather charming and cute. Not that it mattered, Aisha had no need or desire for a boyfriend right now. Especially not when she was allegedly engaged to some faceless dignitary her parents had chosen for her.
That didn't mean she couldn't be friends with Ophir. And, well, it didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the way his wet shirt had clung to his stomach muscles when he emerged from the creek, a fleeting thought that brought a mischievous smile to her lips.
Aisha cast a final glance over her shoulder, expecting Ophir to be lost in the scenic beauty of their surroundings, she was taken aback to find him looking back at her. Aisha's heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twisted with a sensation she couldn't quite place.
Panicked by this unexpected surge of emotions, she swiftly turned away, picking up her pace. Her footsteps turned into a determined jog, then an all-out run, as she pushed herself faster and further away from Ophir.
The party was held in an abandoned warehouse in the heart of downtown Magix, and it seemed like everyone in Magix City was in attendance. Riven found himself wishing he had argued with Musa and refused to come, as the idea of socializing with the witches from Cloud Tower left a sour taste in his mouth. He was grateful for the cold beer, which helped him relax and take the edge off, even if just for a little while.
Riven stood in the corner, nursing his beer and observing the crowd with a sense of detachment. The party was a riot of color, noise, and movement. Smoke from cigarettes and sweat mingled in the air with the dust from the abandoned machinery and equipment that dotted the space.
The makeshift dance floor was illuminated by colorful lights, and a DJ spun tunes on a stage made of old pallets and crates. The chatter and the music reverberated off the concrete walls surrounding the cavernous space of the warehouse. Several of the windows were broken, and the walls were covered in graffiti of varying skill. In the corners, abandoned machinery and equipment lay, some people climbed and sat on them, taking selfies against the rusted metal and peeling paint.
Stella, Bloom, and Musa were all in their element, swaying and twirling to the beat of the music. Meanwhile, Brandon and Sky had already found a group of people to play beer pong with, and Helia and Flora had settled into a cozy corner to have a "conversation" within minutes of arriving at the party.
Riven couldn't help but feel envious of his friends as they all seemed to be enjoying themselves without a care in the world. They were all able to let loose and enjoy themselves without any worries or responsibilities weighing on their minds. He, on the other hand, couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was wasting his time at the party.
Musa danced her way over to where he stood and slid her arms around his neck. "You don't have to stand here looking so solemn. Come dance with me."
Riven wrapped his arms around Musa's waist, pulling her closer. "You know I don't like dancing."
"Well, we're not spending quality time with you standing here like some angry statue while everyone else has fun." Musa rolled her eyes. She didn't pull away, so she wasn't too upset with him at the moment. Riven took this as an opportunity to kiss her, and she allowed it for several minutes before pulling away. "Come on, just one dance," Musa pleaded, her lips hovering just inches from his.
As the DJ transitioned the music to a slower tempo, the atmosphere of the party shifted. Riven noticed couples starting to gravitate towards each other, swaying to the romantic melody. Although Riven wasn't particularly fond of dancing with so many people around, he felt he could handle a slow dance at least. All he had to do was hold Musa close and sway to the rhythm, which could be quite enjoyable.
Riven relented and Musa happily took his hand and led him out onto the dance floor.
Riven placed his hands on Musa's hips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They pressed their bodies close, and Musa's scent, her warmth, and the feel of her body against his made him forget about everything else.
For a little while, they both swayed to the rhythm of the music, lost in the moment. As they moved together, it felt as though the rest of the world simply melted away. Riven forgot about his worries and responsibilities. All he could think about was the woman in his arms and the way she made him feel.
But then, just as quickly as he had slipped into this dreamy state, Riven's attention was pulled away. In the corner of his eye, the flash of a familiar face from his past grabbed his attention. He quickly turned his head but whatever he saw had already vanished into the crowd.
Riven looked around trying to see if he could catch sight again but whatever he thought he saw was long gone.
He tried to shake off the sense of foreboding and focus on Musa again, hoping to recapture the enchanting moment they had shared. But the mood had shifted, and Musa noticed the sudden change in Riven's demeanor.
"Is everything okay?" she asked with concern.
"Yeah." Riven nodded absentmindedly. "I just…need another drink." he replied.
Musa could sense that something was off but didn't push it. "Let's go get one together. I could use a little refreshment too."
Riven nodded and placed a hand on the small of Musa's back as they walked towards the makeshift bar.
The bar area was a chaotic scene, with crates and metal boxes serving as makeshift tables, and a single folding table displaying cups and tip jars. The bartenders were swamped with orders from eager underage drinkers, and they moved quickly and efficiently to keep up with the demand.
As they approached the bar, a bartender finished pouring a drink for a guy standing next to them, barely acknowledging Riven and Musa's presence. He demanded their order without looking up, clearly in a rush to keep the line moving.
Riven scanned the available options, looking for something strong to help him forget his troubles. His eyes settled on a bottle of whiskey, and he ordered a stiff drink, hoping it would calm his nerves. Musa opted for a fruity cocktail, but her gaze never left Riven's troubled expression.
"Are you sure everything is okay?" Musa observed, trying to understand what was going on with him.
Riven nodded absently, picking up the shot of whiskey and downing it swiftly, feeling the warm liquid cascade down his throat and settle in his stomach. The burn of the alcohol provided a satisfying distraction.
As he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket for cash, he froze. There, across the bar, he saw it again—another fleeting was twice now in such a short amount of time, there was no way it could be a mere coincidence.
"Riven? Riven?" Musa's gentle tap on his arm broke Riven out of his trance.
"Huh?" he stammered, turning his attention back to her. The bartender shot him an impatient glare, clearly annoyed, while Musa arched an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Yeah, here," Riven muttered as he thrust some money toward the bartender without even bothering to see what he had grabbed. "I'll be right back," he hastily added to Musa before darting off toward the other end of the bar.
"Hey, wait!" Musa called out, her voice trailing after him, but Riven paid her no mind.
Riven pushed his way through the crowd, trying to catch sight of the person he was certain he had pulsating lights and deafening music made it challenging to see anything clearly, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were there—somewhere in the midst of the tumultuous crowd.
But then, doubt crept in. It didn't make sense for them to be here, not now. Not after all this time. Riven stopped and shook his head, he needed to let this go. He was here with Musa, finally beginning to enjoy himself. What did it matter if they were actually her or if his mind was conjuring up specters from the past, either way it would only ruin what he had with Musa right now.
He turned to head back to the bar, but then the sight of a familiar jacket half-obscured in the crowd seized his was well-worn, the black leather had faded to a deep brown in some places, and there were patches sewn on it, remnants of past travels and adventures.
It was a jacket that had once belonged to him. And there was only one person who could be wearing it now. He slowly walked towards the jacket and there she was, the ghost from his past that he had been searching for.
She was talking to a teal-haired guy with a faux hawk leaning against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he laughed.
He felt the blood in his veins run cold as he approached her, matching her appearance to what he saw now to what he remembered. She had grown a couple of inches and changed her hair completely. The last time he had seen her, it had been a messy tangle of blue. Now it was a bright platinum and half shaved off, all that remained of the blue was a single streak framing her face.
Yet, despite the changes, he couldn't mistake her. Those freckles scattered across her face, that crooked grin, and those lavender eyes were unmistakably the same features he had always known.
"Rue," Riven blurted out without thinking, his voice unintentionally loud and forceful.
The blonde turned to face him with a sharp, "Yeah?" Her expression shifted through a range of emotions when she recognized him.
"Well, fuck," she muttered under her breath, clearly displeased by their unexpected encounter.
Riven felt a whirlwind of emotions coursing through him as he struggled to make sense of the situation. He felt as if he were caught in a vortex, unable to find his bearings.
Rue forced a smile onto her face and opened her arms in a feigned welcoming gesture. Accidentally sloshing some of her drink, causing a few droplets to spill onto the floor.
"Riven! How the hell have you been, man?" Rue's voice dripped with forced cheer as she awkwardly punched his arm. "That fancy school of yours looks like it's been treating you well. You look more buff than ever."
Riven's mind was still reeling as he attempted to make sense of the situation. "What—" Riven began but stopped abruptly, still struggling to process what was happening. Rue's act of being on friendly terms with him only intensified his bewilderment.
"Why are you here?" He finally managed to demand.
Rue shrugged as she took a sip of her drink. "What do you mean? It's a party. Obviously, I'm here for cheap booze and even cheaper thrills."
Riven's frustration boiled over, and he struggled to contain his emotions. "No!" he snapped. "I mean, why are you here in Magix? You can't just show up here like this."
He knew his tone was harsher than intended, but he couldn't seem to rein in his anger.
The tattoo-covered guy stepped forward, his body language protective of Rue. "Back up a couple of steps there, buddy," he said.
Riven bristled at the guy's words, his annoyance growing with each passing moment. He didn't need some random guy with a dopey grin and dumb tattoos butting in.
"This doesn't concern you." Riven growled at the intruder.
The guy didn't back down, responding with equal ferocity. "If it concerns her, it concerns me."
Tension hung thick in the air as both boys assessed each other, daring the other to make a move. Riven was more than ready to fight this punk, his fists clenched tightly at his sides as he waited for the slightest excuse to lash out. He knew he shouldn't let his anger get the best of him, but in that moment, he couldn't help it.
Rue intervened, stepping between them. "Put the dicks away, boys," she said firmly, placing a hand on the guy's chest to push him back. "It's cool Dirk, I know him."
Dirk held up his hands in surrender, his previous aggression evaporating. "Alright, I'm chill," he conceded.
Rue gestured towards Riven. "This is Riven." Rue turned her attention back to Riven, introducing him to Dirk. "Riv, this is Dirk."
Dirk flashed Riven a cocky grin. "Yo." He greeted with a wink and a finger gun motion, as if they hadn't just been at each other's moments before.
Rue's casual introduction of Dirk only added fuel to the fire. She was introducing them like they were all friends and that everything was okay.
But it wasn't.
It just made Riven feel even more angry and frustrated than he already was. The chaos of the environment around them only made things worse. The music was so loud that it made Riven's ears ring, and the heat from the bodies around them was suffocating. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and cigarette smoke was overpowering
You don't get to do this," Riven said to Rue, his voice rising with each word. "You don't get to show up here, wearing my jacket, hanging with some random jerk, acting like it's nothing."
"Oh, come on, Riven. You sound like a jealous ex-boyfriend or something." Rue rolled her eyes. "Also you gave me the jacket, it's mine and I can wear it wherever I want."
"I'm not jealous! I'm pissed." Riven spat, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. "You vanished without a word to anyone. No one could find you. No one even knew if you were alive or dead!"
Despite his anger, there was a hint of pain in Riven's voice, a sense of betrayal that was impossible to ignore.
Rue's eyes flickered with a glimmer of remorse, but it was quickly replaced by a look of indifference. "Well as you can see, I'm very much alive." Rue replied, her voice controlled and even, but she wouldn't meet his gaze.
Riven shook his head, unable to believe how uncaring Rue was acting. He couldn't stand here and have this conversation anymore.
"Whatever. Glad to see you're not dead in a ditch somewhere." He snarled at Rue.
"Back at you, buddy." Rue replied without missing a beat.
Riven whirled around, nearly knocking over Musa who had come to find him. Without saying a word, Riven pushed past Musa and made his way to the door.
He didn't look back, and didn't care if anyone was following him. All he knew was that he needed to escape the chaos and clear his head before he did something he would regret.
Riven pushed his way through the crowd, thoughts of Rue flooded his mind, and a storm of emotions raged within him. He couldn't help but feel angry with himself for allowing her to stir up his emotions so effortlessly. He resented how easily she had managed to bring back memories and feelings he had worked so hard to bury deep within himself.
The feeling of someone placing a hand on his shoulder jerked him out of his thoughts.
"Riven, wait." It was Musa's voice.
Riven turned around, ready to snap at her, but when he saw the look on her face, he paused. Musa looked concerned, and she had probably followed him because she was worried.
"Riven, what's going on?" she asked.
Riven shook his head and shrugged off her hand. "It's nothing. Just an old friend I ran into."
Musa didn't look convinced. "Well, are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Riven muttered unconvincingly.
"You don't seem fine." Musa frowned.
"Just drop it Musa." Riven growled. "Please." He added a little softer.
Musa crossed her arms across her chest and frowned. She wasn't stupid and she had heard enough of the conversation to know there was definitely something going on. Still with the booze in her system she knew she wasn't in a good head space to have an emotionally fueled fight, and Riven wasn't either. If she pushed too much it would only cause him to shut down and turn his anger on her. "Alright, fine, if you don't want to talk about it, then don't."
Riven felt a pang of guilt at the annoyance in Musa's voice. He knew he was being difficult, but seeing Rue again had brought up a lot of painful memories that he didn't want to deal with right now. "I'm sorry, Musa. It's just...complicated."
Musa raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. "Everything with you is complicated. But I won't force you. Just don't expect me to let this go that easily, Riven."
Riven watched Musa storm away, his emotions a maelstrom of conflict. He knew that he couldn't put off talking about this for long. But right now, the thought of opening up felt overwhelming. Everything still felt too raw, too painful to face head-on. It was as if someone had taken a knife and sliced him open and started rubbing salt in the wound, intensifying the pain and making it impossible to ignore.
Riven sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he tried to steady his racing thoughts. He would talk to Musa eventually, but for now he needed time to think.
Mirta's unease grew as Lark, Xandra, and her made their way through the raucous crowd of partygoers. The dim lighting, graffiti-covered walls, and makeshift dance floors gave the place an eerie, post-apocalyptic vibe. The thumping bass of the music reverberated through the air, making the entire warehouse pulse with energy. As they walked deeper into the heart of the party, Mirta could feel a wave of anxiety wash over her, her senses overwhelmed by the sights and sounds.
Lark and Xandra, on the other hand, seemed right at home. They chatted and laughed, their expressions brimming with excitement, seemingly unfazed by the rough surroundings. Mirta followed behind, trying her best to look cool and blend in, even though her heart was racing and her palms were starting to sweat.
"This is crazy," Mirta shouted to Lark and Xandra, raising her voice to be heard over the pounding music.
"I know, right?" Lark replied breathlessly. "I absolutely adore events like this!"
Xandra nodded in agreement, her voice carrying a sense of thrill as she shouted back, "Being in places like this can feel so freeing. You just let go and have the time of your life!"
Mirta looked a little apprehensive, her eyes darting around at the wild scene unfolding before her. "To be honest, I haven't been to many parties before."
Lark quickly looped her arm through Mirta's, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you get the full party experience tonight! And that means starting with some drinks!"
Lark's eyes sparkled with excitement as she led the group towards the bar. The sound of music and chatter grew louder as they approached. The bartenders worked diligently, expertly mixing drinks for the eager patrons.
Lark leaned in close to Mirta as they waited for their drinks. "Just try to relax and have a good time. We got your back girl."
Mirta offered a tentative smile, feeling more at ease with Lark's supportive presence. "I'll do my best," she replied.
Their drinks arrived, a colorful array of cocktails garnished with slices of fruit and tiny paper umbrellas.
"Let's toast to a great night!" Xandra raised her glass and the others followed suit.
The three girls clinked their drank. Mirta took an apprehensive drink, but was pleasantly surprised by the pleasing taste of whatever cocktail Lark had handed her.
The party was in full swing now, bathed in the soft glow of dimmed lights, pulsating with music, and teeming with revelers. Mirta, Lark, and Xandra navigated through the crowd, each with a drink in hand, laughing and dancing to the rhythm of the music.
Lark and Xandra showed off their best dance moves, twirling and spinning to the beat, and Mirta followed suit, her hips swaying to the rhythm. The crowd around them was alive with energy, and they soon found themselves surrounded by other partygoers, all lost in the music and the moment.
The DJ seamlessly transitioned between tracks, and the dance floor pulsed with a new wave of energy as a catchy electronic tune filled the air. Strangers became friends, and the boundaries between them blurred in the kaleidoscope of colors and beats. Mirta laughed, spun, and twirled alongside Lark and Xandra, her worries and inhibitions vanishing with each step. Lark, with her wild, carefree spirit, led the way with her dance moves, and Xandra effortlessly followed, her grace and rhythm captivating everyone who watched.
Mirta found herself caught up in the exhilaration of the moment, moving to the music with an enthusiasm she never knew she had. She danced with a newfound sense of freedom, losing herself in the music and the sheer joy of the experience. The disco ball above cast shimmering fragments of light across her face, adding to the surreal beauty of the night.
Time continued to blur as the trio moved seamlessly from the bar to the dance floor. The music seemed to have a magnetic hold on them, guiding their every step. Lark and Xandra, fueled by the cocktails they'd been sipping on throughout the night, became increasingly more inebriated. They laughed louder, danced more exuberantly, and their eyes sparkled with a carefree abandon.
Mirta, too, was fairly buzzed herself, her cheeks flushed with a warm glow. She was so caught up in the joy of the evening it wasn't until she had danced her way to the edge of the room and into the less illuminated area that she realized she had somehow separated from Lark and Xandra.
"Where could they have gone?" Mirta whispered to herself as she navigated the crowd, retracing her steps to the last place she had seen them. Anxiety creeped in as a chilling thought crossed her mind: had they intentionally left her behind? She had thought the night was going well, but now a nagging suspicion emerged – perhaps they had merely been pretending to like spending time with her. Maybe they had merely been waiting for the best moment to ditch her so they could laugh behind her back at what a fool she was for believing they ever wanted to be friends with her.
It wouldn't be the first time a so-called friend had shown kindness to her face only to betray her when opportunity knocked.
A tap on her shoulder sent relief coursing through Mirta as she turned around. That relief, however, swiftly transformed into bitter surprise when, instead of finding Lark or Xandra, she was confronted by her ex-friend Lucy – the last person she wanted to see at that moment. Lucy was flanked by two equally unpleasant-looking companions who all sneered at Mirta as if she were something particularly distasteful.
"Well, well, if it isn't little Mirta," Lucy said with a cold smile. "All alone again, I see? Can't seem to make any friends at that stupid fairy school of yours?"
Mirta was already feeling low enough and really didn't want to deal with Lucy right now, but she knew ignoring her would make things worse. "I have friends," Mirta insisted. "We just happened to get a bit separated."
Lucy snorted dismissively. "Sure you do. Face it, you were a loser as a Witch, and you're an even bigger loser as a Fairy."
Lucy's cruel words cut through the air, and Mirta felt a sinking feeling in her chest. She clenched her fists, her trembling voice betraying the fragile confidence she had mustered. Lucy's companions laugh maliciously, enjoying the devastated look on Mirta's face.
"Lucy, please, just leave me be," Mirta implored. "I don't need to prove anything to you, and we've outgrown these childish games. There's no need to belittle me to boost your self-esteem." No longer wanting to engage in the conversation, Mirta tried to walk away, but Lucy grabbed Mirta's arm. Her nails dug into the soft flesh of Mirta's wrist, causing a sharp jolt of pain.
"Don't even think about walking away from me," Lucy snapped, her eyes narrowing with a vindictive glare, her words dripping with condescension. "You think you're all high and mighty just because you're a fairy now? Huh? Well, news flash, you're nothing but a—"
Lucy's words were abruptly cut off as a protective figure stepped in between them, breaking her hold on Mirta. Lark and Xandra had arrived on the scene, their stern expressions directed at Lucy and her cronies.
"Is there a problem here, ladies?" Lark demanded.
Lucy and her friends exchanged uneasy glances, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected intervention of the two formidable girls who were clearly on Mirta's side.
"We were just having a friendly chat, no need for your intervention." Lucy lied, attempting to downplay the tension.
Xandra glared down at the three witches, a dangerous look in her eyes. "We just so happened to catch the tail end of your little conversation, and it didn't sound very friendly to me."
Lark stepped closer to Lucy, her eyes locked onto her with unwavering determination. "I think it's best you go away now and leave Mirta alone."
"And trust me, you don't want us to take a more hands-on approach to ensure that you leave our friend alone." Xandra threatened.
Lucy and her cronies exchanged one last uneasy glance, then decided to back down. "Fine. Enjoy the party, Mirta. But remember, you'll always be who you were. A loser." Lucy said as her and her friends quickly walked away eager to get away from the intimidating Lark and Xandra.
Mirta kept her gaze fixed on Lucy and her two companions as they begrudgingly retreated into the bustling crowd. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to steady her frayed nerves. It bothered her how deeply Lucy's words had cut, and she hated that she was still so affected by her. After all the betrayals and hurt she had endured, she should have grown accustomed to it, but the sting of having someone who had once been so close treat her with such hostility remained.
Lark wrapped Mirta in a comforting embrace, and Xandra gently patted Mirta's head, their concern evident. "Are you alright?" Lark inquired, stepping back to examine Mirta.
Mirta managed a small smile. "I'm okay," she replied, her voice steadier now. "Where did you guys go?" she asked, still somewhat bewildered by the situation.
"You're the one who disappeared," Lark explained. "One moment you were with us, and the next, you had vanished."
Xandra chimed in, "We thought you might have gone to the bathroom, so we checked, but of course you weren't there so we started to get worried."
Mirta's eyes welled up with tears of relief. "So you were looking for me?" she asked, her voice quivering. It hadn't occurred to her until now just how scared she had been that they had actually ditched her.
"Of course we were!" Lark exclaimed, her voice conveying the obviousness of their concern. She tightened her grip on Mirta for a moment before letting go, reassuring her further that they were there for her.
Xandra nodded in agreement, her expression softening. "It appears we found you just in time, too.
"Yeah, who was that B with an itch?" Lark asked her tone laced with annoyance as she referred to Lucy.
"You can say the word Lark, that bitch deserves the label." Xandra replied, her anger evident in her words.
"She's someone I grew up with," Mirta began to explain. "We were friends for a long time, or at least I thought we were. But once we started at Cloud Tower, I realized our friendship was pretty one-sided. She only used me because I was convenient and would drop me as soon as someone better came along."
Lark's expression softened, and she exchanged a sympathetic glance with Xandra. "Well, you don't need 'friends' like that in your life, Mirta. Especially not when you have us."
Mirta wiped away a stray tear and gave them a grateful smile, her heart warmed by their support. "I know. Thank you, both of you. I don't know what I would do without you."
Lark chuckled, giving Mirta a playful nudge. "You don't have to worry about that. We're not going anywhere."
Xandra nodded firmly. "Exactly. We've got your back, no matter what."
"Do you want to leave?" Lark offered, concerned for her friend's well-being. "We don't have to stay here if you want to get back to the dorm."
Mirta shook her head. Up until her confrontation with Lucy, she had been having a good time, and she didn't want to cut that short. "I want to stay. I'm not gonna let Lucy chase me away like that."
Lark smiled warmly at her friend. "That's the spirit, Mirta."
"Well then, I'd say we earned ourselves another drink." Xandra said.
"Here, here," Lark cheered, and Mirta chuckled, feeling the weight of her earlier encounter with Lucy lifting in the presence of her supportive friends.
The trio went back to enjoying the party, their laughter and dancing making it clear that they wouldn't let one negative experience cast a shadow over their evening.
Dirk exited the warehouse squinting his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness of the alleyway. He scanned his surroundings, taking in the sight of the graffiti-covered walls and overflowing trash bins. He ventured further into the alley, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly off the brick walls. He knew Rue was out here somewhere; he just needed to find her.
She had disappeared shortly after the encounter with the angry guy, and had been gone long enough that the party was starting to die down and it was about time for them to take off.
The air was cool and crisp, and the distant sounds of music and laughter from the party were muted by the encircling brick walls. Dirk's eyes roamed over the litter-strewn pavement as he walked, his footsteps the only sound in the otherwise quiet alleyway.
As he continued his search, he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. However, it turned out to be nothing more than a scrawny cat darting behind a nearby dumpster. Disappointed, Dirk turned to head back into the warehouse. Just as he was about to make his way inside, the door burst open, flooding the alleyway with light and noise. Three girls stumbled out, giggling and swaying unsteadily on their feet.
One was a cute redhead with a gothic style, her dark clothing and makeup contrasting vividly with her fiery hair. Another was a petite brown-haired girl dressed in a frilly pink dress, looking as though she had stepped right out of a fairy tale. But it was the leader of the group who grabbed Dirk's attention – a tall and striking young woman with flowing purple hair, exuding an air of confidence that commanded attention.
She surveyed the alleyway, her eyes scanning until they locked onto Dirk's. With purpose, she sauntered over to him, the clacking of her expensive high-heeled boots punctuating the quiet night.
"You have something I want," she informed him.
"Do I?" Dirk replied, amused by the unexpected encounter.
"Yeah," the girl replied, her speech slightly slurred, but she didn't provide any further details.
Dirk raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she meant. Before he could inquire further, the brown-haired girl leaned closer to him, her breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. She whispered in a voice that wasn't particularly hushed, "You'll have to excuse her, she's quite drunk," gesturing toward the purple-haired girl.
However, the purple-haired girl wasn't having any of it. She straightened up and retorted, "I'm not drunk; you are!" This exchange sent both of them into fits of giggles.
Dirk couldn't help but chuckle at the playful banter between the two girls. He was accustomed to encountering inebriated individuals at parties, but this particular group had a unique charm that drew him in.
"They both are," the third girl chimed in, appearing to be the most sober of the trio.
Dirk gestured toward her with a friendly nod. "And who might you be?"
The red-haired girl flashed him a shy smile, her dark lipstick accentuating her pale complexion. "I'm Mirta," she introduced herself. "This is Xandra and Lark," she added, pointing to each girl in turn. "We heard you were one of the people selling those weird blue cigarettes with the rainbow smoke. That's what she wants," Mirta explained, nodding in Xandra's direction.
"Well, ladies, the name is Dirk, and if it's the blue smokes you're after, I've got you covered," Dirk replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a silver case. He clicked it open to reveal five navy blue cigarettes lined up neatly in a row.
Xandra eagerly snatched them up, examining the packaging with a curious expression.
Mirta took a cigarette from Xandra and examined it closely, her expression growing serious. It was long and thin like a cigarette, wrapped in a navy blue colored paper, and she couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship. Whoever made these had been quite skillful. It almost seemed like a novelty item, a clever disguise. If anyone in an authority position saw them, they probably wouldn't take them seriously, which was likely the point.
"What are these things made of?"
Dirk shrugged nonchalantly. "I know it's basically a cigarette laced with something herbal, but I'm just a middleman. I don't ask too many questions."
"Oh, I didn't realize it wasn't a regular cigarette." Lark giggled.
Xandra teased, "As if that matters. You've been cultivating your own pot on your family land since you were fourteen."
Lark hushed her playfully, saying, "Don't reveal my secrets."
"Normally, I'd charge for these, but since I have a thing for goth chicks, consider them a token of my appreciation," Dirk said with a wink and a playful double finger-gun motion at Mirta, who blushed a bright pink.
"Thanks so much!" Lark exclaimed, beaming at Dirk.
"Think nothing of it." Dirk replied. "Just make sure to come find me if you ever want more."
"You got it." Xandra agreed.
Mirta gave him a suspicious look but chose not to press the matter any further. Instead, she turned to her friends and suggested, "We should get going."
With their exchange complete, the group bid Dirk farewell and began stumbling down the alleyway, their laughter echoing behind them. Dirk watched them go, an amused smile on his face, before he turned and made his way back into the warehouse. He still needed to find Rue.
"They were quite an interesting bunch." Rue's voice floated down from above.
As Dirk turned and looked up to find Rue, he should have realized that when searching for her, he should always look up high. Rue was perched on the wall that bordered the alley, effectively transforming it into a dead-end. She was halfway through her joint, a cloud of rainbow smoke forming an ethereal halo around her head.
Dirk couldn't resist a mischievous grin. "Yeah, and they were all pretty cute too."
Rue shook her head with a teasing smile. "You're such a hopeless horn dog, you know that?"
Dirk chuckled, acknowledging the truth in her jest. Rue extinguished her smoke and gracefully descended from the wall. She retrieved a sleek, phone-like device from her jacket and tossed it to Dirk, who caught it effortlessly.
"Anyways, the interesting part was the goth girl," Rue explained. "I did a scan of her; she uses both light and magic, just like the girl we're looking for."
Dirk examined the screen of the device, which displayed a picture of the three girls with power readings above them. Mirta's reading seemed erratic, bouncing around as if it couldn't decide what kind of magic she possessed.
"The girl we're after looks completely different, though," Dirk argued. "I doubt Lieutenant Assface will accept a substitute."
Rue replied, "Probably not, but maybe he'll ease up if we can at least provide someone with a similar profile."
"Maybe." Dirk conceded, though his tone lacked conviction.
"So I guess we move on to phase two?" Rue suggested, her tone uncertain.
"I guess so." Dirk agreed, casually tucking the device into his pocket.
Rue leaned against the wall and rubbed her temples, a sign of her weariness showing through. "Great Dragon, I'm exhausted. The sooner we can get far away from this place, the better."
Dirk joined her, leaning against the wall next to Rue, his expression filled with concern. "So I'm guessing that guy has something to do with the reason you wanted to avoid Magix."
He was referring to the earlier confrontation he had witnessed between Rue and Riven. Rue shot him a glare, she appreciated Dirk's concern, but she wasn't ready to discuss it just yet.
"Obviously," she replied curtly, her tone reflecting the underlying tension in the air.
Dirk probed further, genuinely curious. "So what's the deal with this guy? Is he your ex-boy toy or something?"
"Not even close." Rue scoffed, as if the idea was almost amusing to her.
Dirk raised an eyebrow. "Then who is he? Your long-lost brother?"
"Fuck no," Rue shook her head vehemently. "He's not that either. He's..." She hesitated, struggling to put into words the complex history between her and Riven. "He was an important part of my life once, and it's better that he's not anymore. Let's just leave it at that," she concluded with a sigh, the weight of her past clearly weighing on her shoulders.
Dirk could see the turmoil in Rue's eyes and understood that some stories were better left for another time. He respected her unspoken boundaries and didn't press her further on the matter. Instead, he offered her a reassuring nod, a silent acknowledgment of the complexity of her past.
"Alright," he said, shifting the conversation away from the sensitive topic. "Let's focus on the task at hand. We've got a lead to follow, and I've got a feeling things are about to get interesting."
Rue couldn't help but tease him, knowing his penchant for flirting. "You just want to hit on the goth girl some more."
Dirk shrugged playfully and grinned. "I don't not want to."
Rue shook her head, her expression filled with amusement. "Z is gonna kick your ass one of these days."
"Hey, this is business. Flirting for business doesn't count." Dirk protested.
"Sure, sure," Rue replied, playfully rolling her eyes at his antics.
"Seriously though, you're not gonna say anything to her, are you?" Dirk asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
Rue shrugged, her silence only intensifying Dirk's unease.
"Rue, seriously, don't twist things. Z will never take me seriously if you do," Dirk pleaded, the desperation in his voice evident.
Rue flashed him a wicked grin, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Well, I guess you'll just have to charm her with your legendary business acumen, then."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Dirk asked, puzzled and a tad frustrated by her response.
Rue simply laughed and began to walk away, prompting Dirk to scratch his head in confusion.
"Are you trying to say I don't have any rizz?" He called after her. "Cause you know I got loads of rizz!"
"Let's go, Casanova!" Rue called back, and Dirk obediently followed, still not entirely sure what Rue was getting at but he would figure it out, somehow. Just as long as she didn't make him look bad in front of Z.