The Thing About Fairs - Part 1
The thing about fairs was, they were magical.
Delia was just about done with magic. She used to love fairy tales when she was young, stories about princes who turned into frogs and princesses who kissed them and dragons guarding towers to keep them apart. She used to play dress-up with her sisters for hours on end, back when they all got along and didn't pretend that they were too busy with their own lives to make time for each other. Most of the magic of the world faded year by year, replaced by a cold, hard reality.
And then, there was the Angeles Province Fair to remind her that magic still existed.
Bright lights shone so brightly they could blind, twinkling enticingly off of snack stands and carnival rides. The smell of popcorn and fried cookie dough tickled her nose, made her stomach growl with hunger despite the dinner she'd had just an hour earlier. Laughter echoed through her ears along with the screams of some of the more squeamish fairgoers strapped into rides that spun them high in the sky. Bells went off as teddy bears were won. Music of the carousel played on and on as the animals spun.
Absolute magic.
Not that Delia would let any of her Selected know that. She had to remain aloof. She had to remain strong and stick to her guns.
To say this was a casual outing would be a lie. Nothing involving royalty was ever casual. So, even though Delia had pitched this as a lowkey group outing, it had turned into a massive affair involving plain-clothes bodyguards and less discrete camera crews.
Delia should have just been grateful that Dad gave this date the green light. It had taken lots of convincing and some underhanded begging. A desperate bid to get Delia out of the house. Any more garden parties and she would lose her shit. All Delia needed was to feel normal, to feel like any other girl on a date. The closest she'd had to that so far was her rage room date with Andre. Delia was hoping to recreate that feeling tonight and get Elodie useable footage.
No Elodie tonight. No Hayden either, thank God. Only Delia, her guards, and her boys.
What could possibly go wrong?
"Alright!" Delia clapped her hands together, gathering the attention of her group of half a dozen Selected. They had congregated in a group outside the main gates, guards holding their tickets like disgruntled parents. "Everybody ready?"
Andre whooped. Dante whooped along with him. They were the only ones to vocally approve.
The lady behind the ticket booth took their tickets with all the enthusiasm as a corpse. She handed over their ride vouchers: purple bands for each of their wrists in that cheap paper that was damn near impossible to rip off. A problem for later-Delia. Now-Delia was ready to have fun.
She hardly knew what she wanted to do first!
Ezra raised his hand.
"This isn't kindergarten; you can just say what you have to say," she said with a roll of her eyes. This would be a long night if these boys were going to act like she was the chaperone to their grade school field trip.
"Oh, um, I was just going to suggest bumper cars?"
Delia loved bumper cars. What a bomb suggestion.
"Incredible, let's go."
No one protested the activity. In fact, everyone seemed excited about getting into tiny plastic cars and ramming into each other so hard they got bruises where the steering wheel dug into their ribs. Perhaps it was the nostalgia. Or perhaps it was the intense competitiveness coming out in all of them.
They handed over their tickets to the dead-eyed teenager working the booth and scrambled to find the perfect cars. People gaped and pointed as they passed, recognizing their princess and her suitors from the TV, but for the first time Delia did not care. She thought it was funny that her bodyguards wanted to blend in so much that they got into the cars as well, dark suits and ear pieces sticking out amongst a sea of children and parents, teenagers and university students.
The music started and the cars jerked as electricity fired up the grid. Delia immediately started spinning, the wheel to her car bent at an odd angle that sent her immediately careening into Teo. Her car hit Teo so hard it bumped his glasses down his nose. He looked as startled as a deer in headlights.
Delia shrieked with laughter and peeled away, leaving him in her dust.
Everything devolved into all out war.
Delia didn't know when she went from hunter to prey, but soon she found herself chased in circles by Andre and Sydney. It was like they had teamed up to take her down, sandwiching her between their cars so she could not escape. That was, until they peeled away to let her get t-boned by Dante.
"Asshole!" Delia shrieked as she grappled to control the steering wheel.
The cretin cackled as he zoomed off.
"Don't hate the player, baby! Hate the game!" Andre called as they zipped by her other side, blowing her a kiss as they went.
The ride ended and Delia pulled herself out of her car, riding the euphoria of healing her inner child. The steps down were metal and rickety, so she jumped to avoid them, sneakers hitting the dirt with practiced ease. Unfortunately, she over-estimated her ability to get back up, and instead of springing up from a crouch, she fell forward onto her hands and knees.
Well, that was embarrassing.
A hand entered her view, and when she looked up, she found Ezra looking down at her with concern.
She took his hand and hoisted herself up.
"Thanks," she said, brushing the grass from her knees.
Ezra said nothing, hovering at her side as if she might fall over again. It was kinda weird.
"Why are you acting so weird?" Delia asked.
Ezra scratched at his ear, going red at the cheeks. "Sorry, I - uh..." he started mumbling something incoherent to salvage his strange behavior. Then, his eyes widened and he pointed to the stand nearest them. "Cotton candy!"
"Cotton candy?"
"I mean, would you like some? Cotton candy?"
"Yeah, sure."
They walked side by side to the short line, Ezra constantly scratching at his ear. Maybe he had a scab. Or maybe he had head lice.
When they got to the front of the line, Ezra ordered them two blue sticks - Delia's favorite. Logically, she knew that all the colors tasted the same (like sugar) but the blue was definitely the best. The lady behind the counter handed them over in exchange for a few wadded up bills, and Ezra looked so pleased to have done something right.
The first taste of fluffy sugar was like heaven, a sweet explosion melting on her tongue. It was the blue that made it so good, Delia was convinced.
"Good?" Ezra asked, his lips stained blue.
"Yeah, thanks."
Delia knocked her cotton candy into Ezra's as a form of 'cheers'.
"So, I wanted to ask you - "
Whatever Ezra wanted to ask was cut off by Andre running up and jumping on his shoulder, shouting, "FUNNEL CAKES!"
Delia had to skirt to the side before she was trampled by a stampede of hungry, sugar-crazed boys. Nothing could unite so many different people like deep fried dough. Even though Ezra had a funnel cake, he was being dragged by the arm into the long line, his eyes begging to be saved. Delia spared a quick moment to wonder what he wanted to ask her, but didn't have any time to dwell before Andre slid up beside her and slung their arm over her shoulder.
"Hey little mama," Andre said, flashing his brightest smile. "You having a good time tonight?"
"I can't complain," she replied, finding herself breathing easier when in Andre's presence. They were like sunshine, the watts from the string lights magnifying their smile ten-fold. "How about yourself?"
"I've been missing you, can't lie."
"Flatterer," Delia shoved at them half-heartedly. Truth be told, she liked Andre at her side. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"
"What can I say? I like what I like."
The shit-eating grin Andre wore let Delia know they had no remorse. It was intoxicating being around someone with such unflappable confidence. Their smile could light the whole damn city. It wasn't fair that Delia had to stand so close to Andre with all the other Selected around. It meant she couldn't pull Andre down by the collar of that ridiculous denim jacket and kiss them senseless.
What a shame.
Up ahead, a tower of flashing lights called to them like a beacon in the night.
"Okay strong man, show me what those muscles do."
"Challenge accepted."
Andre wasted no time handing over the requisite tickets and grabbing a mallet. They planted their feet firm on the ground, shifting their weight as they approached the bell. There was no real science to this, no proven way to succeed, but Andre approached it like solving a math problem. Then, in one fluid motion, Andre raised the mallet above their head and brought it down hard.
Time slowed as the metal clapper rose higher and higher on the pole, so high that it had nowhere else to go other than the bell. It rang loud and clear, along with a symphony of celebratory horns and music. Andre preened like a peacock, puffing out their chest, as if they knew this was the only outcome.
Andre beckoned Delia to the prize booth, throwing their arm over her shoulder once more.
"Pick one," they said, gesturing to the stuffed animals lining the booth.
It was incredibly cheesy, a stereotypical thing for a guy to do on a date. Delia had half an urge to pick the biggest, most obnoxious stuffed animal: the neon pink and yellow giraffe with oversized eyes. Just to make Andre carry it around for her. But there was a panda hiding in the corner, it's adorable facing peeking out, calling to her.
Delia pointed to it, and the underpaid teenager manning the booth dug it out for her.
"Thank you," Delia told Andre, burying her nose into the synthetic fluff. It smelled like popcorn and cigarette smoke. "No one's ever won me something before."
"Consider me your first."
Andre winked, and Delia was mortified at herself for blushing. This man had seen her naked for fuck's sake!
Even though the whole point was to make Andre look a fool, Delia couldn't help but keep the stuffed animal in her arms. She felt like a little girl: giddy and just a little high. It was stupid, really. Embarrassing considering the cameras were probably zoomed up on her face and the whole world could see her fawn over this toy.
The big red and white striped tented called to her as refuge.
Delia sauntered up to Teo and linked her spare arm - the one not full of stuffed panda - through his. To say he was flustered was an understatement. Great, now they both could look like fools.
"Did you know when I was a kid I was afraid of clowns?"
"You were?"
"Deathly, actually." Truth be told she had no real feelings on clowns, but Teo didn't know she was talking out of her ass to ease the silence. "If we see a clown, I'm relying on you to defend me. I want you to punch that motherfucker right in the face. Can you do that?"
"I...I can try."
Teo looked bewildered, but didn't run away. That was good.
"My hero."
They strolled into the tent with their arms still linked, Teo clinging to her like a magnet. It was comical the way the crowds parted for them, the way the seats at the edge of the ring magically cleared so they could have the best view. The way the ringmaster came up and greeted them personally with a flourish and bow.
"I would be honored if Her Highness would join our troupe on stage tonight," the man said in his best theatrical voice.
"Oh, no I couldn't. Who else would watch over Blossom?" she patted the panda on its fluffy head. The damned thing was so big it needed its own seat. "But Teo here would love to volunteer."
"I don't know..." he trailed off, biting his lip. He looked nervous being put on the spot.
"It would make me so happy."
That was all it to took to get Teo to cave.
"Wonderful!" the ringmaster clapped his hands together, overjoyed. It was hard to tell how much of it was an act and how much was genuine, but Delia didn't care.
The circus started soon after that.
They didn't call on Teo immediately. They let him sit through the other acts: the sword-swallower and fire juggler, the five men on motorcycles performing death-defying stunts in a cage that made the whole place smell like gasoline, the woman on aerial silks who was far too beautiful and graceful to be wasted on a provincial circus. The typical stuff, though Delia was disappointed there were no dancing horses. The elephants had been let go due to animal cruelty long ago, but surely they could have kept a few horses?
Delia sat and munched on some popcorn while the acts went on. The tap dancers were a little underwhelming, but the man who ran across the moving pendulum was cool. Eventually so many people performed that she wondered if the ringmaster had forgotten about them.
But then the knives came out.
It was Teo's time to shine.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, tonight we have a very special guest: one of Princess Cordelia's own Selected!"
Applause roared through the crowd, suddenly awake now that the getting got good. People craned their necks to get a good look at Teo as he was escorted to the center of the ring by two of the pretty tap dancers, their silver costumes shimmering in the spotlights. They led him to a giant wheel and strapped him to it, testing the restraints by giving him a spin.
Delia felt her heart rate speed up. She knew this was a show, that nothing bad would actually happen. The knives were likely dummies, dull and unable to maim. But there was still a fear deep down - likely generational from all the trauma past Selections endured - that this would end up in bloodshed.
Yet, the ringmaster smiled and took his knives in hand. He lined up a shot, theatrically aligning his blade with his eye, and let it fly.
Delia stopped breathing. Time slowed. Then, the knife sunk into the wood at Teo's feet and she let out a deep exhale.
The crowd went wild.
The ringmaster turned and bowed to his admirers. There were still four blades in his hand, and his throws would only get trickier.
Delia didn't know if she could sit through this.
One by one, the knives sailed closer to Teo's person. One to his other leg, one to his right arm, and one to his left. Until the last blade was the only one remaining. This had to be it: the head shot. The one that, if it missed, would forever harm or kill him. And yet, he did not break a sweat. Teo remained focused on the knife, his eyes tracking it as the ringmaster reared back.
Delia closed her eyes. A split second later and a gasp rose from the crowd.
When she opened them, Delia saw Teo spinning on the wheel with a throwing knife embedded just above his hairline.
There had never been applause so loud.
The assistants shimmied over to the wheel to let Teo go. Teo jumped down from the wheel with a cool smile, waving to the crowd as he went. There was a blush to his cheeks, the kind from having the blood rush to his head. He did not seem afraid in the slightest. Maybe he was riding out the adrenaline high? Lord knew Delia was anxious enough for them both.
"That was pretty badass!" Delia proclaimed, slapping Teo on the shoulder as he took his seat. "I didn't think you had that in you."
"Did you think I'd run away?"
"No. It's just - you're so soft-spoken. So unassuming."
"Yeah, well, that's not my first time being close to a knife," he said with a wry smile. "Sure it's not the last either."
"What, things get crazy out there in the wild?"
"More like things get crazy at home. But you don't wanna hear about that."
On the contrary. Delia very much wanted to hear about that. There was something about Teo - the way he looked, the way he angled himself away from her that was new and exciting. Like peeling back an onion and reaching a whole other layer. Perhaps she had brushed him off too easily. Perhaps she needed to get to know this part of Teo a little better.
If only because watching him excel under extreme physical danger was kind of a turn on. And she was, if nothing else, a single-minded woman.
The rest of the circus went on, but Delia could hardly pay attention. She was too caught up in her thoughts, too busy trying to parse out what all of these new and conflicting feelings about her Selected meant.
Soon enough, the show ended. Everyone got up and started to file out the door. She had to follow or risk being left behind.
Outside, the sky had darkened to dusk, the moon a Cheshire Cat smile up above. The lights of the fair shone even brighter at night, nearly blinding in their intensity. Everything was so much more magical now that the wires and gears were hidden in shadow. One could pretend they were in a fairy land of swirling mirth and laugher.
Teo had gone; he had left her side and she couldn't spot him. Disappointment stabbed at her insides even though she knew she wasn't unlocking any more backstory tonight. He seemed decidedly done with conversation. She'd have to try again on another date.
Another date?
Had she really just thought that? Willingly?
Christ, this night was making her crazy. It was all the sugar in her brain. She needed to expel it.
"Gotta stretch my legs," Delia said as she dragged her hands over her head and let the joints in her back pop. She looked up at Dante as she stretched, a curious gleam in her eye. He was the only one who bothered to slightly dress up: slacks and a quarter zip compared to everyone else's jeans and tees. "You like rides?"
"I like some rides."
"What about that one?"
Delia pointed to the mousetrap: a herky-jerky ride that sent people spinning along meters of twisting track. She had thrown up all over Hayden's lap on that one once when she was seven. Good times.
"Absolutely not." Dante dug his heels into the cracked concrete, refusing to move. "You know there is a one in fifteen-point-five million chance that we could be severely injured on this ride? It looks like it's gunning to be us, and I value my life."
"Come onnnnn, live a little!" Delia cajoled, pulling Dante towards the line. "I'll keep you safe."
It was a terrible promise, one she could never keep, but it did the trick. Dante sighed, rolled his eyes, then slowly followed her to the line.
When they reached the front, their car squealed to a stop, the chipped yellow paint on the body exposing aged metal. Smaller persons were to sit on the inside, so Delia went first and tucked herself into the corner, fastening her seatbelt tightly. She didn't think she'd get thrown from the car but it would be obnoxious to wind up plastered all over Dante.
Dante stepped in and fastened his belt with all the enthusiasm of a man dragged to death row.
"Are you scared?"
"No," Dante replied quickly. A little too quickly. Then, when the bar came down, he flinched. "Maybe."
"You can hold my hand if you want."
The speed at which that man gripped her hand spoke volumes about his nerves. His knuckles were turning whiter than her own.
"This is payback from earlier, isn't it?" he asked miserably.
Delia only spared a moment to feel badly before flashing him a shit-eating grin. "Of course."
There was no more room for talking. The ride jerked to a start and they were off, ratcheting up the slope to the first drop. It was a long way to the top - or it felt like it was with Dante breathing deeply in her ear, her fingers losing feeling from his iron grip.
"Put your hands up!" Delia encouraged as they reached the peak. "It's more fun that way!"
"Have you lost your miIIIIINDD!"
Delia was going to Hell for cackling, but Dante could have been a cartoon character the way his eyes bugged out of his head.
He held on to everything for dear life as the car herked and jerked across the tracks, cursing up a storm that would make sailors blush. And this man was a doctor. While Delia laughed with each sharp turn, Dante hollered. Eventually Delia gave up trying to keep her body from squishing against his as they spun, using him to cushion her own blows. Maybe her weight would help settle him. At least, that's what she told herself as she collided with him time and time again.
The ride seemed to go on forever, the track never-ending. This had to be Dante's own personal Hell (the irony of name and location not lost upon Delia no matter how much of an ignorant heathen her siblings believed her to be). He was pale as a ghost and trembling by the time the car slowed back into the station.
As they got out, Delia kept a grip on his arm, leading him back towards the group. He had just suffered through that ride for her. It was the least she could do.
But then, Dante went from white to green.
"I don't feel well..."
He ran over and puked in the nearest trashcan.
A chorus of 'oh shit' and 'whoa' erupted as the rest of the guys tried to get a look at what was going on. Stupid, if anyone were to ask Delia. All they were doing was getting in the way, and saying stupid shit wasn't going to calm Dante's stomach.
"There, there," Delia said as she patted his back, trying to comfort him. "Let it all out."
She grimaced at the cameras and gestured for them to cut filming. No one wanted to see this. It had to surpass the G-rating.
To be fair, she wasn't feeling too hot herself. She was grateful some of the crew led Dante away towards the indoor attractions. There had to be a bathroom stashed somewhere between the prize-winning pecan pie and the province's largest pumpkin.
Following them didn't sound like a bad idea. If only the world wasn't spinning.
"Whoa, careful."
Sydney was the one who caught her, long fingers wrapping around her arms and holding her steady. Maybe it was the lights, all blurring together, or maybe his eyes really were that shade of honeyed brown, haloed gold just like his hair.
"You okay?"
"Fine. Just dizzy." Delia righted herself. "Mousetrap must have been more intense than I remembered."
Fuck, maybe she was getting old. Maybe she would have to resign herself to the groups of people who visited fairs in the daytime to see the pig races and the fattest calves. That kind of life didn't sound too bad.
But then again, those kinds of people never got to ride the swings at night.
Delia must have said something out loud because Sydney was pulling back on her arm, keeping her in place.
"You sure about that one, princess?" he asked, skeptical. "You still got the spins?"
"I'm fine," Delia snapped. Then, she took a breath and tried again. "I'm fine. The swings are my favorite."
"In that case lead the way."
Most people who rode the swings were children. It was a tamer ride, containing none of the thrills or inherent danger of the Mousetrap or any of the rides that flung you upside down and side to side. A lot of people passed it by on the search for something more exciting.
Those people were fucking idiots.
There was no line, people pouring through the gate and handing over wadded up tickets to the operator. Delia kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot across the cold metal to the nearest blue wicker seat. She always picked the blue ones. The metal bar clattered and clanged as she climbed inside and buckled herself into her seat. Sydney copied her movements, sitting in the seat beside her. His legs were long, knees up to the metal bar as they waited to take off while Delia's barely scraped the floor.
He didn't say anything. Unlike all the other rides, there was no banter, no small talk. He didn't ask her why this ride. He didn't seem to resent her for taking him on a children's ride. He didn't stare longingly at the flying saucers or the samurai swords. He kept his gaze on the sky.
He has a nice neck, Delia thought idly. Long and graceful, his Adam's apple poking out at a severe angle that should have been grotesque but only gave Delia an intense urge to bite it. Maybe it was because he was an indifferent asshole; she wanted to get under his skin, see what made him tick. Or maybe it was because he was looking at the sky the same way she did - equal parts wonder and longing - and it set her off balance.
Then, the music started playing, and they were off.
This was the true magic: eyes closed and head tilted back while the wind whipped through her hair. It was so easy, sitting like that, for Delia to believe that she was flying.
When she opened her eyes, all the lights blurred together into a swirl of neon yellows and pinks. Sounds were so far away, as were the smells. It was colder up here, a chill breaking over her skin. But she had never felt freer.
The stars were close enough to touch. The moon was only a breath away. This high up, and nothing could touch her. There was no expectation, no hurt and no pain. She wasn't anyone up here. Just another explorer in the atmosphere.
Then, reality pulled her back down to earth.
The ride was over much too soon, the swings lowering themselves to the ground and slowing to a stop. It was sad to let go, to return to reality and plant her feet firmly on the ground. So much of Delia wanted to stay on the swings, to keep her eyes shut just a little longer.
But even princesses had to abide by the laws laid down by underpaid teenagers.
She got up from her swing and collected her shoes. No one had stolen them and tried to sell them on the internet - thank God. She slipped them back on and pulled the laces tight, completely forgetting she wasn't alone until she heard Sydney's voice behind her.
"What were you thinking about up there?" Sydney asked as they collected their shoes.
"Nothing," she replied, to which Sydney laughed. The kind of laugh that was more a scoff of disbelief. "I'm serious. I just...let my mind go blank. It's nice." Delia felt the urge to defend herself, a bit too vulnerable for her liking. "What about you? Any profound thoughts?"
"Felt a bit like Icarus, flying far too close to the sun."
"Really?"
"Nah, not really," he said, the first time one of his smiles had been aimed her way. "I was thinking about how my sister Haylee would have loved this. It's her favorite too. Last time we were here she made me ride it til we got sick."
"Too many hot dogs?"
"More like too many fried Twinkies." He shoved his hands into his pockets, a fond smile on his face. "She texted about twenty minutes ago. She's here with some friends from school. Do you mind if I go say hello?"
"No, not at all."
"You should come with me."
"Oh o-okay..."
Delia found herself getting pulled along, hand in hand with Sydney leading the way as they wove their way through the crowds. Just the two of them. Ditching the group to go off on a non-sanctioned part of the date. Security must have been having a stroke. What did these optics look like - ?
Holy shit balls she was turning into Elodie.
That had to be remedied. Immediately.
Standing by a lemonade stand was a young girl in faded jeans and a crop top. Her sandy blonde hair was long and loose around her tanned shoulders. She had her nose buried in her phone, friends doing the same around her, but as soon as Sydney got close her eyes locked on him and lit up like Christmas.
"Sydney!" she screeched, running and jumping into her brother's arms. "You made it!"
"Course I did."
"I've missed you. We've all missed you. Except for JJ, but you know how she gets when school's in. Can't pull her away from the books. I tried to get her to come tonight, but she's got some big exam on Monday and said she had to study all weekend."
"It's alright. I'll be back for Christmas."
"You think so?"
"I don't know." He turned to Delia, one brow cocked, curious. "Will I?"
"Depends on how bad you plan on pissing me off."
"Very high chances then." Sydney drank in his sister's joy, matching her energy with his own. It was so refreshing to see a healthy sibling relationship. Made Delia jealous for something she never really head. Not for a while, anyway. "Hales, this is Delia. Delia, this is my baby sister, Haylee."
"Nice to meet you, Your Highness."
Haylee dipped into a mock-curtsey. Nothing like the real deal, but it made Delia's cheeks flame with embarrassment. She hated all that ceremonial shit. It was outdated and cringey as fuck.
"Please, don't. It's just Delia. And it's nice to meet you, too." This girl had to be even younger than Gabbi, yet they were nothing alike. Gabbi was a seventeen-year-old grandmother, but Haylee brimmed over with effervescent youth. And her fashion was to die for. "Killer shoes!"
"Thanks!" Haylee chirped, her smile taking over her entire face. "I got them on sale at the cutest boutique on the Angeles strip - "
Sydney threw his arms around his sister, pulling her into his side and jostling her. "Are you ladies gonna talk clothes all night, or are we gonna ride some rides?"
"Oh, I - " She wanted to say yes. It was on the tip of her tongue. But Haylee looked at Sydney like he hung the moon in the sky, and she knew she couldn't come between that. "I can't. Unfortunately, I have a schedule to stick to."
"Right. Speed dating."
Did Sydney seem...disappointed? Delia was definitely projecting that.
"Them's the rules," she said with false cheer, shooting them some finger guns (finger guns?! you absolute idiot!). "You go have fun, though. I'll send a car to pick you up whenever you're done? We might be headed out soon."
"Yeah, perfect. Thanks."
Haylee bounced off with a wave, taking Sydney with her.
What was it like to have a sibling relationship like that? What was it like to not be talked about behind your back, to not be constantly tattled on to Mom or Dad, to not be the butt of every joke or made out to be the bad guy in every situation? Delia knew she brought most of that on herself; she had been the one to burn so many bridges. But it must have been so nice to have someone to talk to, someone you admired and looked up to, someone who would make the time to tuck you under their shoulder and tell you everything would be okay when the whole world was changing.
Would Elodie move heaven and earth for Delia if it wasn't for this Selection? Would Hayden even care to sit through a tea with her? Would Auden have stayed if she had asked?
Too many questions whose answers would only hurt.
The walk back to the group was longer than the walk away. Maybe it was a 'walk of shame' or whatever, but the lightness she had felt on the swings was gone, replaced by a need to curl up in bed and sleep for a day. Or six.
The guys seemed ready to pack it in too.
Most of them were idly picking at their fourth snacks, trading jokes and making small talk. Men weren't usually ones to bond over mundane things like women were. With Delia gone, the common denominator vanished. A lot of them were simply on their phones, keeping themselves company.
One of those loners was Jaesung Kim.
Jae leaned against the rail that led to the Ferris Wheel line. His long legs crossed over one another as he slumped in a way that should not have been attractive but it was. Or maybe that was because he chose to dress like a mob boss and had managed to undo his top three buttons, his jacket flung over one shoulder and his sleeves drawn up to his forearms.
There were millions of girls in this world that were drawn to this particular brand of fuckboy, and damn if Delia wasn't counting herself as one of them.
"There she is," Jae simpered, his dark eyes sparkling with nothing good. "Did you finally remember we exist?"
Do I have to? she asked herself. She really didn't want to.
He's the only one left, the angel on her shoulder said. It looked a lot like Elodie.
One ride, she told that angel. One ride, and I'm done. On an off. So quick.
She didn't know what it was about Jae in particular that set her off. Delia was used to assholes. In her line of life, assholes were a dime a dozen. Older, slimier, more powerful men filtering in and out of the palace only laying eyes on a princess for her birthing hips and position in line for the throne. It was something Delia had learned to wash off her skin.
But Jae wasn't that kind of gross. Sure, he pretended to be, but Delia was good as sniffing out bullshit. And Jae's bullshit meter? That was ringing off the charts.
Delia didn't like not knowing. It was driving her insane.
She didn't even bother with a formal ask. She jerked her head in the direction of the ferris wheel then rolled her eyes for him to follow. He took a long look at the ride, as if it were beneath him to set foot on it, then finally followed her with a joyful swagger. All fake. Then again, what about him was real?
The attendant didn't even bat an eye when he opened the door to their carriage. It swung violently as Delia threw herself in an down on the hard bench, making things as hard as possible for Jae. The bastard didn't even the decency to stumble as he sat across from her, taking her mood with grace. He sprawled himself across the bench, taking up as much space as possible.
He stayed silent until they started moving. Then, he dropped a bomb.
"At least tell me he was a good lay," Jae taunted. His lips were red like he'd been biting them. Or something else. "Oh, no...you didn't fuck him, did you? What a shame. With hands like those, he has to be at least eight - "
"How is that any of your business?"
"If I'm going to fuck you, I'd like to know if I need to start taking precautions. You don't know what places some of these lower class men have been in, or who they've been in."
Delia stayed silent. There was no way she was giving into his line of perverse questioning. It was like he got off on being as vulgar as possible. Besides, it wouldn't do her any good to bait him by saying she wouldn't let him touch her with a ten foot pole.
If Jae was fazed by silence, he didn't show it. He whistled for a bit, then closed his eyes and started tapping his foot to speed things along. When that didn't work and they were only one rotation into the ride, he reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a baggie of weed.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Delia hissed.
She couldn't believe the nerve of this guy! It was one thing to smoke in the privacy of her own house where the press were not allowed to go, but out here? In public? For Joe Schmo and all their kids to see? Oh, Elodie would rip her head off.
Jae didn't seem to care. He wet his lips to seal the paper, leaned back against the seat, and took a long drag from the blunt. Somehow, he made it look hot. The way his lips curled around the paper, the way the end glowed and lit up something in those dark, dark eyes. The way he smiled when he caught her staring.
"You want some?"
Long fingers reached out and offered temptation to her, dangled like a carrot to a horse.
Delia was tempted, she couldn't lie. Even if she told him to go fuck himself, she'd still wanna reach for the blunt. The sweet smell of cannabis and smoke was too tempting to pass up. Not when it was the good stuff.
"Come on," Jae taunted, waving the blunt by her nose. "We are too far up for the cameras to see. It would be our little secret."
That was it.
Delia snatched the blunt from him and put it to her lips. The tip was already wet from his saliva. It was almost like kissing Jae, except not really. Sweet, sweet smoke filled her lungs, a pleasant burning in her chest and a buzzing in her head soon following.
Christ, she needed this. She didn't realize how badly until now.
"So, how long are we stuck up here?"
"The crew bribed the operator before we took off. Five, maybe ten minutes at most," Delia guessed, but she wasn't too sure. "I think Elodie is hopeful we'll kiss."
"It is very romantic up here," Jae said, not an ounce of sincerity in his voice. Everything he said sounded mean, full of charismatic bite. "The smoggy air, the blinding lights, the smell of urine."
"Don't forget the hard plastic beneath our asses and the graffiti on the walls."
"Ah yes, how silly of me." Jae stuck a hand into his jacket pocket and produced a marker. The permanent kind that Delia used to like to sniff as a kid. He leaned over and wrote a few Korean characters on door. Then, he dangled the marker her way much like he did the blunt. "Would you like to add your mark?"
Fuck it, why not?
They traded items, a blunt for a marker. A fair trade, in Delia's book. One vice for another.
She picked the wall furthest from Jae's - why, she couldn't say - and scribbled her own name on the wall just below the lip of the rail where seat met window. That way, when the next stupid couple sat down in this janky cab, they would lean over to admire the view and have to see her name. Not that anyone would know it was her. There were a million Delias in the world, and she added nothing more, not even a cheeky HRH.
"What a rebel."
"This was your idea."
"Yes, but it's expected of me to break the rules."
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not known for being much of a rule-follower myself."
"Yes, I can see that." His smile was lazy and somewhat demented, like the Cheshire Cat. He even cocked his head in a similar manner, made his movements as slick and feline as possible. "I'll be honest. This whole Selection, it bores me."
Delia prickled. Here she was, trying to have a good time, and Jae was out to ruin it.
"Then why are you here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Again with the damn head-cocking. It was beginning to get patronizing. "It's clear it bores you too, so why bother?"
"Something about love and duty I guess," she grumbled.
Truth be told, Delia had been having a great night. One of the best she'd had in a while. And while that might not have been great for her long term plans of breaking a bunch of hearts, it was nice not to be bogged down by all her shit for once. She might not even have to lie to Midas on the Report this week when he asked her if she had fun.
"So, we have, what? Three more minutes of uninterrupted bliss?"
"Plenty of time for me to throw you over and say it was an accident."
There would be no kissing. Sorry Elodie. Jae didn't seem to mind, though. He laughed loudly, perhaps even genuinely.
"Oh, I'm sure you'd love that. Any other day, and I would too. But, I have a better idea. Care to hear it? Or would you rather wallow in pity and self-hatred?"
"Spit it out, you miserable fucker."
"An acquaintance of mine owns a club just around the corner. Shiny and new, very exclusive." Another temptation dangled like a carrot. Delia felt like she was seated across from the Devil himself, all long legs and that damning smile. "How about we ditch the cameras and go have some real fun?"
.o.O.o.
'Real fun' to Jaesung Kim was a thing of beauty.
Delia had never met another person so addicted to vice as she was. As much as she loathed to admit it, he had good taste in clubs. Or, at least he kept good friends. Friend was likely a loose term. People like Jae didn't keep people around long enough to get close.
The club was already packed, the street outside flooded with people waiting in a line that wrapped all the way around the building. That didn't faze him. He had the car pull up out front and let Delia out in full public view. This man did not give a single fuck. He didn't care if the other Selected hated him in the morning for highjacking a group date. All he cared about was having a good time.
People screamed his name as he got out, people who didn't even care she was with him. He had his own following, his own love affair with the tabloids that chased him. Delia should have cared she was getting photographed in this place, wearing these sweaty fair clothes, but the blunt from the Ferris Wheel was already working its magic. The cameras were glowing fairy lights, much like the ones from the fair. She followed them to the door, let them hover around her while she smiled.
Jae flashed some kind of card and they were quickly escorted to the back of the club where private suites lined the walls, cut off from the masses by lighted stairs and thick curtains.
The club was barely audible from inside the room. Leather couches circled a large, round table, a pole in the center of that table. Champagne chilled in the bucket on the side next to rolls of carefully ironed dollar bills ready for tipping. Lights were low and the smell of smoke filled Delia's nose.
Jae was already sprawled on the couch, hair blending in with the black leather. He lit a blunt with practiced grace and took a hit. Even upside down, he made it look sexy.
"Did you order a private show?"
"I'm not sure," he said with a smile. "I just said we wanted a good time."
"You didn't tell me this was a strip club."
"I didn't know." Highly unlikely, given the shit-eating factor of that blinding white smile. "Legally speaking, it's not."
All it would take was a rumor about this place and she was fucked. Night clubs were one thing, but strip clubs? Her life would be over. Her parents would never let her leave the house again. It had taken an ungodly amount of support from Elodie to allow this fair trip to happen. It was almost shut down when Elodie backed out. And now, Delia had abandoned her security to go to a strip club with one of her Selected.
To say she was playing with fire was an understatement.
Or maybe that was just Jae flicking his lighter open and closed, open and closed over and over again.
"Stop it," she giggled, batting at Jae's hand and stealing the lighter from him. It was a nice piece: solid silver and engraved with some characters she could not read. Likely a gift from his father. Typical rich boy shit.
And wasn't he such a pretty rich boy? He milked that well enough with the smiles and the condescending charm. It had gotten him far in life. Certainly far enough to take liberties with a princess. Assholes like this used to grind Delia's gears. A year ago she wouldn't have been caught dead at this club with this boy in these clothes.
Now, she just wanted to know if Jae was able to put his money where his mouth was.
She took the lighter and stuck it down her bra. He could get it back later, if she was feeling generous. He didn't try to get it back, too intrigued by Delia standing up on the table, walking around the pole. She had no idea what she was doing, didn't even have upper body strength to do a basic spin, but that didn't stop her from teasing Jae just a little. She dropped to her knees, the pole in between, and pulled herself back up slowly. She let her hair loose and shook it over her shoulder as she took another turn, tossing her head back so her chest pressed outwards.
By this point, her brain shut off and her body took over. The weed made everything hazy, every idea wonderful. She touched herself, fingers running down her throat and over her chest, down her stomach and across her thighs. Far more sensual than she wanted. Far more sensual than she thought she could be.
Jae leaned back, enraptured by the show. His eyes were wide and dark - so dark she could not see his pupils (though that could have been the weed as well, just not as much of a boost to her ego). His mouth parted, the blunt slipping from his lips and landing on the ground. Smug pride burned through Delia's chest when he didn't lean down to save it.
That's when things went even more off the rails.
Jae stood up and pulled her closer. From her perch on the table, his head only came up to her waist. He meant to take her to his level, but he overcompensated. She screeched as she overbalanced and tripped off the table and landed ass first atop the booth. Her head knocked into the wall but it didn't hurt. Jae fell forward between her knees, his head pressed up against her stomach. She reached up to hold onto something, fingers threading through his hair.
Soft, was her only thought. So soft. Like the fluff on a kitten or a baby bird.
She looked at him with wide eyes, her heartbeat running a mile a minute.
Could he hear her pulse thundering away? Could he feel her heart thumping in her chest? He had to, because he breathed a little quicker now. A little deeper. Something shifted in the air between them, something electric.
She wanted to push him away. She wanted to pull him close.
It was a private room. Not even her bodyguards were going to come walking in. No one was there to stop Jae from unzipping her jeans and pushing her panties down. No one to stop Delia from spreading her legs and making room for Jae between them.
If anyone did walk in, they would get quite a show.
It was a pretty sight: Jae on his knees on the cheap leather booth, Delia sat atop the ledge with her knees over his shoulders, thighs pressing into the sides of his head as he put his mouth on her. His silver tongue wasn't just good with words.
Delia gasped.
Jae took it as encouragement, which it definitely was not. He was ignorant to Delia's terror. To the person she saw just over his shoulder.
Misa stood with her arms crossed over her chest, that disappointed look on her face. The same one she got when Delia said something stupid or asked a question that she already knew Misa wouldn't like. Like she was a child who needed reprimanding.
Oh Cordelia, Misa sighed. What mess have you gotten yourself into now?
That same patronizing tone. Those same damning words. They made Delia want to cry, to scream, to rip her hair out.
Instead, she closed her eyes, tears leaking out the corners. She grasped Jae's head for dear life, trying to chase the high she felt just moment ago.
She's not real, Delia chanted to herself. Just a bad trip. Bad trip. Bad trip...
Jae growled as the grip on his hair got tighter an tighter. Every hitching breath spurred him on, not looking up to see the ghost in the room. And that's all she was, a ghost. Misa was a ghost half way across the world. She wasn't here, in this room, ruining this moment just like she ruined all the others.
Except she was.
Misa crawled into Delia's ear, her lipstick smeared across Delia's cheek and on her brain as she cooed, Who could possibly love you like this?
"GO AWAY!" Delia shrieked.
Her whole body jerked. She nearly kicked Jae off the couch, her heel making contact with his sternum.
"What the fuck?" Jae shouted, more pissed than confused. "You could have just said you didn't like it."
That ruined the mood. He got up and took the cloth napkin from the champagne bucket and wiped his mouth with it, his lips the color of cherries. Any other time and Delia would have found that hot, but all she felt when she looked at Jae was shame.
Who could possibly love you like this?
This time it wasn't Misa's voice who taunted her, but Delia's own.