"Come on, hotshot, would you take the hit already? I feel like I'm gonna die of old age here!"
Pool cue in wing, Xixi sassily taunted her opponent on the other side of the lofty slated table, laughing at him when he still couldn't seem to decide which ball to strike, or even which angle to do it from.
"Oh, pipe down, will you? You can't rush these things; they require deep concentration and a super steady hand – neither of which I can use if you keep harassing me like that!"
"Okay, okay, take your time. Maybe in this next century you'll pot something..."
Leaning over and meticulously readying his stick, King Julien finally chose his target: the solid-blue ball labeled with the number 2, sitting close to the center of the table, near the right side pocket. If his strategy worked out as it had in his head, his ball should roll straight into Xixi's yellow-striped number 9, ricochet off at a 240-degree angle, and slip with ease into the far right corner pocket, securing him his first potted ball of the match. He closed one of his eyes to garner focus, and, holding his breath, he struck out at the cue ball, sending it flying across the baize down its predicted path – however, when his object ball touched Xixi's, it instead bounced back towards him, hitting the cue ball, which in turn fell into one of the corner pockets.
"What the-?!" The lemur king's eyes widened in utter shock – he couldn't believe his fortune (or rather, lack thereof).
"Ahhhh! That's a scratch right there if I ever saw one, ha ha ha ha!" cackled Xixi as she flapped her wings, briefly taking off her perch at the table's edge, "Nice try, though, I'll give you that! Oh, and thanks for the ball-in-hand, by the way; I'll be sure to make good use of it, ha ha ha!"
Piqued, Julien threw his cue down and reached for the frozen, coconut-clad margarita that he'd left on the table beside theirs – where the rest of the gang was sitting. "Man, this game is wack! All these months and I still can't get the gist of it for the life of me! Cue ball this, eight-ball that, solid balls, striped balls, chalk, breaks, fouls, scratches – gah, so many damn rules! It's frying the kingly brain!"
"Sounds to me like somebody's a bit of a sore loser! Not pointing any feathers..."
"Yeah, we can go outside and play some hopscotch if pool's too hard for you, hee hee!" Mort remarked with a grin, holding his deck of cards against his chest to hide it from Maurice's prying gaze, who chuckled as well.
"Heh, perhaps some tag or musical chairs would be more up your alley, Your Majesty? At least that one has something you're actually okay at."
Julien smirked back. "Ha ha, very good, funnyman; I'm splitting in two over here!" he exclaimed wryly, taking a swig as he retrieved his cue. "Now you're all gonna see what this king's really made of – you, Xixi, won't even know what hit you!"
His old avian companion, not to be deterred, nodded confidently. She knew she could beat him any time, blindfolded; she was a seasoned veteran of the game with hundreds of hours of experience under her belt. "Ohhh, so that's how you wanna play, huh? Alright, bubba, hit me with your best shot – if you think you have what it takes!"
"Oh, I do! Sure as my name is KJ the Thirteenth, baby!" Turning to his fellow lemurs, he thrust the pool cue up toward the ceiling like it were a regal scepter, and spoke as though he were delivering a sermon to a crowd of commoners, "To all of you presently here, I hereby decree that Xixi is about to get the absolute worst tail-whooping of her sad little life! When she unavoidably – and hilariously – loses to me at this most grand and epic showdown for the ages, she's gonna cry so bad she's gonna need a pair of brand-new tear ducts, while I'll be laughing all the way to the top as the new best pool shooter in this club – boo-yah!"
Then, he bowed mockingly before he faced Xixi again, earning gleeful laughter from everyone in the party.
Everyone... except Clover.
Ever since they'd come here to Club Xanadu a while ago now, the king's bodyguard just hadn't been able to enjoy herself, no matter how much she tried to. All of her friends were there just like always, Maurice and Mort were having a pleasant game of cards with her, and the night itself was alive with lemurs partying and raving and tripping as far as the eye could see... yet Clover felt nothing on the inside. It was as if a hole had been torn clean in her chest, cold and blackened – as if there was something missing...
She had barely even touched her own strawberry sangria as of yet; all she had done was take a few paltry sips of that sweet red concoction whose taste she loved so much, and then... nothing. It simply had no taste to her buds tonight. Her deck of cards lay in front of her, scattered around the expensive black-marbled table like dice on a board; she couldn't care less whether they were visible to Mort and Maurice. Right now, she only had eyes for the dance floor, of which the booth they were in had a clear view – over there, like specters amidst psychedelic strobe lights and billowing smoke, two young women were dancing closely. Judging by how similar they looked to one another, Clover had to guess they were sisters, or at least pretty close relatives.
Oh, how they were smiling and laughing, and basking in their togetherness as they exchanged words she couldn't hear – words that were practically guaranteed to be miles ahead of anything she and Crimson had said to each other in recent memory! It was a nearly nauseating sight to watch, but for some unexplainable reason, she couldn't tear her eyes away.
"HA! Got you again! So much for whooping me senseless, huh?"
"Dammit! That was a cheap shot, come on; we gotta call foul!"
"Nuh-uh, fair and square is the name of the game! Boy, and here I thought having opposable thumbs would be an advantage, ha ha ha! Guess not!"
"It's the stick, okay? Stupid thing's gotta be broken or jinxed somehow!"
"Suuure, suuure..."
Even the lively banter between Xixi and her king, coupled with the sporadic clacking of their pool balls, bled indistinctively into the background, and Clover didn't understand why any of this was happening. Crimson was gone; she was finally free from her influence, so what was keeping her from being happy now?
It didn't take long for it to dawn on her: she regretted having turned Maurice down earlier. Plain and simple. She had begun to wonder if she was perhaps making a grave mistake by rejecting his help so impetuously when she should have let go of her anger and tried to listen to him. Now, she felt as though she was wasting a precious chance to improve her standing with Crimson, because she knew that tomorrow, as soon as they'd reunite, everything that had transpired today – all those feelings of pain and spite and anger and sorrow – would return in full force to torment her once again. And then again the day after that. She wasn't sure she'd be able to take it...
Only one thing was clear in her turbulent mind at the moment: that she was quickly losing control, of both the situation and herself. Usually, most of her issues were dealt with by way of her fists, but she couldn't rely on them for this one. She'd need something vastly different; something she'd never been good at in her life: communication. That was the only feasible way she could ever reach a middle ground with her sister, yet she just couldn't bring herself to do it. How could she, knowing she'd only get hurt again?
Sighing with resignation, Clover continued to watch the two women dance in silence.
She felt so lost... and even while she sat there now in that big leather banquette, surrounded by hundreds of people on all sides, she felt strangely alone, too.
"Clover, please..." a high voice suddenly said to her then, "You need to at least drink something..."
The royal guardian was so distracted that she barely heard it. Her voice was but a whisper as she replied, "Mm-hmm, yeah... Sure."
Mort bunched all his cards together and left them next to his half-full gin; it was evident the game was over. "Oookay... so... anything you'd like to talk about?"
"...No."
"Nothing?"
She shook her head very slowly. "No..."
The mouse lemur glanced over to Maurice and shrugged at him with a look of concern in his eyes, not knowing what to do. The aye-aye studied Clover's face for a bit; it was no secret to him what she kept staring at so keenly, so he put his deck down as well and, inching closer, he asked her, "You're thinking of her, aren't you?"
That seemed to grab her attention at last.
"...Yeah, I am," she grumbled. There was no use in lying about it. "I just can't stop thinking 'bout her – 'bout us... and hell, I don't know how to make it stop..."
Several seconds passed before Maurice answered, "...Clover, you do know you don't have to keep doing this to yourself, right? I'm serious; why even go through all this trouble when you're gaining basically nothing from it?"
She ignored the question. She planted one of her elbows on the sleek marble, resting her head on her hand. "Look at that, mate. Just take a good, long look at that." She went back to observing the dancers, who had just left the floor and now, hand in hand, were making their way towards the bar area. Her gaze followed them until they became one with the crowd and subsequently faded from view. "...Why? Why couldn't I have been born with a good sister, huh?" she suddenly hissed with what Maurice could only describe as envy in her tone, "One who actually acts like one and loves me – even if just a little, that'd be nice! Is it really that much to ask?"
"...Clover..." Maurice tried to say something, yet his voice failed him. He would've liked to tell her that Crimson did indeed love her – which he'd always firmly believed in, even if evidence might suggest otherwise – but he was sure she wouldn't take the comment very kindly, so he just reclined on his side of the banquette and then turned to look on how Julien and Xixi's game was progressing. It hadn't even occurred to him that all the noise they'd been making a minute ago had ceased altogether, and so, his eyebrows shot up when he saw both players standing there motionlessly, holding their cues as they gazed upon Clover. Maurice could see then in the king's eyes disillusionment flare up like he'd rarely known it from him.
"...Wow, you guys must've had quite the trip today, huh?" Xixi whispered to him behind her wing.
Julien produced a low sigh. "If only you knew..." Then, hoisting his stick over his shoulder, he stepped to the trio and tapped on their table with its tip to make Clover glance up at him. She did, all of a sudden looking timid and unassertive beneath that golden-eyed, unyielding gaze.
"Ye – yes, Your Majesty?" she asked him, "Something wrong?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, I don't know; you tell me! Is there?"
She kept her lips shut tight, and so did he; Julien was obviously waiting for an answer, but it wouldn't come. It wasn't until she grew visibly uncomfortable moments later that she gave him one.
"...What?!"
Closing his eyes, the silver lemur rubbed his forehead. "Look, Clo-Clo, I might not the best at taking the hint when I see it... but really, you can quit tiptoeing around me, 'cause I don't think anyone's buying it anymore," he told her then.
Clover shifted her eyes down in shame.
He was right. Not only was it distasteful of her to continue lying to her best friend like this; it was only causing more harm than good.
"...I..." The words struggled to leave her lips. "I just... miss... Crimson, alright?"
"Oh, what was that?" Leaning in from her perch, Xixi cupped one of her wings over her earhole. "Say it louder for those at the back, please; I don't think we heard you!"
"I said I miss her! Well... sorta. Er, I don't know, it's complicated – you wouldn't understand!"
Xixi chuckled heartily, then nodded toward Clover's cocktail. "What I understand, girl, is that you need to drink up! That's what I do to cope when life gets me down! Pro tip – nab yourself a stirred old-fashioned with lots and lots of ice, a nice dash of bitters, and some extra sugarcubes thrown in for good measure; that ought to get you back up and running in no time flat! Trust me, it never fails, ha ha ha!" Here she started laughing in a rather offbeat manner, dropping her cue to the ground.
"Come on, Xixi, don't start with that now. What Clover's going through ain't no joke," Maurice scolded the toucan, who lobbed her wings up in retort.
"Hey, someone's gotta lighten up the mood around here!" she exclaimed, before asking the orange lemur, "And anyhoo, why do you suddenly care so much about what your sister does or doesn't do? Like, I know it's not my place to butt in, but from what I see normally, you never seem very affected by it..."
Clover had picked up one of the cards from her deck; she was lightly scraping away at one of its black spades with her fingernail. "That's only 'cause I make it look that way. What, you think that having such a terrible person for a sister doesn't upset me? Well, think again!" She slammed the card back down, then leaned back, crossed her arms, and began staring at the floor angrily. "It does get to me, if I think about it long enough. I just... try not to do that. It's not the best way to get by, but I... I manage."
"Oh... uh..." Xixi folded her wings as she closed her beak; she hadn't expected that kind of answer from her.
"...Well, isn't there anything you can do, though?" She dared to open it after all to offer a kind smile. "I mean, because if you're saying you miss her or whatever, then the solution's pretty simple in my eyes: go out there and get her, tigress; sure she won't mind if you come in nicely, right? Heh, tell you what – I'll go with you, then we can have a girls' night out, just the three of us! You two can wear matching dresses, and earrings and jewelry and stuff, while I bring out my finest makeup routine to round it all up! Hell yes, we'd be like an unstoppable party threesome – let's do it!"
"Xixi," Maurice interrupted before she could say anything else, "stop it. It's not happening."
"Better listen to him; he's talking from experience," added Mort.
Xixi's smile faded, and she scoffed at the lemurs. "...Yikes, people! It's always fun to hang out with you, but dammit if you haven't turned into a bunch of total downers today! Hell, if I didn't know any better, I'd say I must've gotten lost on my way to the club and wandered into a funeral from the way you guys are acting!" Maurice and Julien rolled their eyes at her; she paid them no mind. "Oh well, I guess it's just one of those days then, huh? That's okay, I totally get it – not all of them can be winners... To be frank, I'd be sad too if my sister was such a huge-
"Xixi, do me a favor and shut it, will ya?" Clover barked, raising a steely gaze at her feathered friend, "I 'ppreciate the sentiment, but the thing is, I came here to have a good time, not to mope over my problems! You lot make it sound so easy, dealing with stuff like this – well, let me tell ya, you couldn't be more wrong! I could go and look for her like y'all keep telling me to – and believe me, I don't know why, but... something in my heart actually wants to do that – but then what? Huh?! What would that fix? Crimson and I are barely on speaking terms as is; I'm not equipped to start that kinda conversation with her!" She ran her hands over her ears, making a little whimpering noise. Then her folded arms fell upon the table, and she buried her whole face in them. "Gods, what a mess... I can't even think straight anymore! Ahhh, what am I gonna do...?"
Maurice laid a calming hand on her shoulder, before redirecting his silent glare at Julien. The royal frowned back – he seemed just about to intervene, when Xixi suddenly flew off the pool table and landed on the banquette besides Clover; gently, she began to prod her head with her long, multi-colored beak till she would look up again. When she did, Clover read from those big, round azure eyes that the toucan's next choice of words was to be a lot more... substantial than before.
"Look, Clover, I want you to level with me here, and I want you to do it with absolute sincerity: do you actually love Crimson?"
"Xixi!" Julien gaped at her in astonishment, as did the other boys. She just waved them off.
"Tell me – do you?"
Clover could only stare at her with shocked, widened eyes. It took her a few seconds to compose herself, and then cry out, "What... what kinda bloody question is that?!"
She smirked encouragingly. "Just say it, hon, yes or no. Ain't nobody gonna know..."
"Well, I, uh – um..." For another long while, Clover found herself scrambling for words. There were only three people in the world that she trusted enough to share such confidential information with (all of whom were standing right there), and Xixi – good friend that she was – was not one of them. However, she couldn't fault her too much for asking; to anyone who lacked that inside knowledge, it would seem as though the only feelings Clover harbored against her twin sister were rage – boiling, seething rage and hatred. That the only thing she could ever want from Crimson was for her to disappear from her life entirely so she'd never have to see that darned perfect, pompous little face of hers again.
But that couldn't be farther from the truth...
She could never do that; never, no matter how much pain Crimson would put her through.
"I..." she stammered after a minute of introspective thinking, "What the hell, o – of course I love her! Yeah! I mean, how couldn't I? Us having our differences and whatever doesn't mean I hate her, or - or wanna see her hurt or anything, Xixi; she's still my sister! She's the only person I have left... well, besides y'all, of course. You get my meaning." At this she gave a plaintive sigh, green eyes gleaming with most unfamiliar vulnerability, which she hastened to conceal when she noticed the odd way everybody was staring at her. "Anyway... ah... I just – I just don't know what to do! Should I stay, should I go? What d'you guys think? What would ya do if you were in my place?"
"That's a question only you can answer, Clover," Maurice said with a smile. "But don't worry; whatever you choose, we're always right behind you."
Mort nodded. "Yeah, so there you go then – this stuff you just told us is exactly what you should say to her! Who knows; maybe you'll come out pleasantly surprised!"
But Clover still seemed undecided. Shaking her head, she grabbed her sangria – not to drink, but to watch those tiny fruit slices float and coast about the confines of the glass. "Bah, what's the point? She could be anywhere in the kingdom by now... Would take me all night to find her."
Xixi thought about it for a second. "Hmmm... actually... I think I might have a lead on that!" she exclaimed then, heaving one of her shiny black wings at the lemur, "Assuming they haven't kicked her out from there yet too, she's probably gone to the Bootlegger's Bay down southeast! You know the one – that quaint little cabin with all the hanging lightbulbs and creepy tikis that's overlooking the beach not too far from here? Me and her have gone there together a couple times; just last month, in fact! She's said she's developed quite a thing for it recently, so if you wanna go see her, then that's where I'd start looking."
"Wait, ya have been out to parties with my sister?" Clover said incredulously, "Why? Ya don't even like her!"
She shrugged. "Eh, I know, but she's just sooo good at partying! A girl's gotta respect that – and sometimes, respecting is better than liking!"
"Yeah, right. Whatever ya say. I'm sure she's said so many great things 'bout me while on your 'escapades' though, hasn't she?"
"Uhhh, not really; I've never heard her mention you. Or King Julien. Or any of you, for that matter..." Xixi switched locations again as she spoke; now she went up and around, then down to settle comfortably among the broad-leaved plants that bordered the banquette, where she had a slightly higher view of everyone. "Hell, I can tell she doesn't fancy me much, though I think she just puts up with it so she can have someone to talk to who isn't either the bartender, the local beach bums, or random surfer himbos who only indulge her 'cause they wanna get inside her fur pants. Not sure if you've noticed, but her options for socializing aren't exactly the best around – after the Big X opened, it's kinda been stealing the limelight away from the other clubs..."
Julien nodded along to the reporter's words. "Yes, I can see where that would leave her. Not in a super bright spot, I'll tell you that."
"Awww, so she has nobody to hang out with?" Mort pouted, "But that's so sad!"
"Like hell it is; Crimson's brought that on herself!" Clover refuted him with renewed ire, "If she weren't the way she is, nobody would've had any issue with her staying here with the rest of us! Now she has to realize she's not a lil' baby anymore, and that actions have consequences – fair trade if ya ask me!"
"Well, sure, but don't you feel anything for her? She must be so lonely..."
Maurice took a long swill from his drink – he was having a whiskey sour. "Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it won't matter for long, 'cause if Clover does end up winning the pageant, Crimson's gonna have all the company she'll ever need and more."
"Right, I'm still not sure how I feel about that; it's pretty peaceful in here without her! ...I mean, as peaceful as the biggest nightclub in Madagascar gets," his king mused.
"We'll be fine so long as she stays in her lane – which, if she knows what's best for her, she will."
"Yeah, and besides, Butterfish is there to take care of everything too; that man ain't messing around when it comes to his job!" Xixi said, then gave Clover a smirk. "...But hey, in case the big fella can't cut it for... let's say... reasons, perhaps a little sisterly touch could put her in her place instead, hmmm?" She winked down at the crowned lemur. "Know what I'm saying? Hey? Wink-wink, nudge-nudge?"
Clover didn't smile back. If anything, it appeared Xixi's lighthearted attempt at cleverness had produced an effect contrary to the one she was going for, for Clover didn't even look angry or annoyed anymore. She just looked... tired. Groaning quietly, she fell back against the banquette's backrest, head tilted up towards the ceiling. Her eyes were only half-open, as though she wished she could just fall asleep right where she sat and be transported far, far away from all this misery...
"Listen, guys, can we please stop talking 'bout this already?" she heard herself mutter then, in a tone worn and quite wounded, "Really, I hate to be rude, but c'mon! I've had a very rough day, I've got so much stuff in my mind my head feels like it's gonna frigging explode, and I've been smiling so damn much I can barely even move my jaw – and then, take a wild guess what's in store for me tomorrow: pretty much all that, all over again! So please... just gimme a break, yeah?" She shut her eyes and held them there. "Forget about Crimson. Who needs her anyway?"
Somehow, the others thought those last words must've been meant for herself, rather than them. No one risked speaking following that. The only kind of motion whatsoever came from Maurice once he peered into Julien's somber face; a myriad of emotions was flickering across it one after the other, be it anger, sadness, pity or shame – he didn't know which.
"...Screw it." Julien's voice broke the silence. "Look, I saw Ted and a few of the other dudes earlier somewhere around here; I'm just gonna have them take you off the contestants list and be done with all this craziness."
Puzzled by this, Clover opened her eyes. "Your Majesty...?"
"I'm not letting you suffer like this one more minute, Clover! I'm the one who put you up to this, now I'm gonna end it! Your sis can cry about it all she wants if she doesn't agree!"
With these words he cast his pool stick aside, and stepped away from the group. But his bodyguard would have none of it.
"No, no, wait! Don't!" she yelled, standing up to go after him. However, she tried to do this so precipitously that she forgot she didn't have enough legroom in her current position – her knees came up banging against the table's rock-hard underside, and she gave a sharp, pained grunt as her legs buckled, forcing her back down. The table itself lurched violently in protest, sending the animals' cards and drinks bouncing, and Clover's glass, which had been closest to the point of impact, was tipped over. Since she had no room to move, she couldn't avoid it when all its contents spilled out over the table's rim – and straight down onto her lap.
Everyone around her instantly shouted out, recoiling as if the dark marble had burst aflame. Xixi swooped in in an attempt to shove Clover's cards out of harm's way, but it was too late; in the confusion, most of them had gotten soaked too.
"No, not my cards! Aw, man... that's just great!"
"Agh, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Clover screamed ragefully; she could scarcely control her ill temper anymore. She held her arms out and far from her legs, which were now a dripping-wet mess of clammy fur and ruby liquid. There were strawberry halves, raspberries, and orange slices all around her thighs, too, further adding to the chaos.
"Oh, shoot!" Maurice grabbed the napkin holder, ripped several out in a single quick movement, then handed them to her. "Here, try to clean yourself up with these!"
Straining to remain calm, she tried doing that, but it was quite obvious that a few napkins wouldn't be very effective in removing those dark, sticky splotches from her fur. Nevertheless, she continued to do it, holding back more curses of frustration as she reminded herself to control her increasingly volatile emotions. All her friends were watching, and she didn't want them to see her lose her cool again like she had done with Maurice – much less now that they were in public. Some of the lemurs from the booth next to theirs were already looking at them funny.
"Uhhh... that's not working very well, Clover..." Mort muttered.
"Ya think?!"
Once she'd wiped off as much of her ill-fated drink as she could (which, as Mort had just noted, was hardly much), she crumpled the napkins up into a ball and tossed it on the table, before telling the mouse lemur to move along so she could get off the banquette. What she needed to get this washed was a nice, long touch of soap.
"Ah, gross! Just my bloody luck again!" she growled, looking down on herself with disgust. "Well, you lot better get back to it; I reckon this one's gonna take me a while to sort out. Oh, and, Your Majesty..." she said to Julien, "Please don't do anything irrational while I'm gone, alright?"
"Alright, alright," he obeyed, "Your choice, Clo-Clo. Sorry for the, er... that." He pointed at her lower region. Vexed, she turned away from him.
"Yeah. Dunno what I must've done to piss Frank off lately, 'cause this sure isn't my day..."
Clover was going to take a shortcut through the dining area. As expected, it was teeming with activity. She kept her eyes sharp on the lemurs around her as she walked in case any of them inquired about her splattered legs, but the darkness of the club combined with the ever-changing lighting made it so that they weren't that noticeable, so at least she didn't feel the need to hide herself. Still, the faster she got to the safety of the girls' room, the better, so she would be stopping for nothing.
"Yo, Clover!" Right on cue, a voice called her out. When she turned to see whose it was, she saw Pancho, lounging at one of the tables with Andy. The red lemur was holding a large mug filled to the brim with fresh, foamy beer, which he, with a friendly smirk on his lips, raised in her direction. "How are the preparations for the pageant coming along? Got everything figured out yet to blow us all away this Saturday?"
Ugh, c'mon...! She slowed down out of politeness, but didn't stop. "Um, yeah, I'm all on it! Especially since I happen to have the best mentor ever helping me out – ya fellas wouldn't believe how great she's being to me!"
Neither the judge nor his chiropteran associate seemed to catch the sarcasm in Clover's tone. "Ha ha, well, ain't that good news!" laughed Pancho. "Anyway, you're looking kinda pressed, so we won't hold you! Here's to you, for luck – cheers!" He and Andy lifted their mugs high over their heads, and clinked them together. She hastily thanked them, then proceeded on her way.
Finally, she could breathe a sigh of relief. Her safe haven was getting ever closer; she could see the bathrooms' indicative pink neon sign glowing above the access tunnel in the near distance. She continued to push through the tight crowds – when all of a sudden, someone walking in her opposite direction bumped their shoulder against hers. This happened with such blunt force that it staggered her and nearly caused her to fall over, though she was able to steady herself with her tail. Now, jostling into people was unavoidable in congested spaces like these, but this club-goer's attitude had rubbed her the wrong way – their carelessness was such that they didn't stop to apologize to her or even look at what they'd done at all! Grunting angrily, Clover spun around to give that fool their just reprimand.
"Oi, watch where you're going, ya mor-
She gasped aloud mid-sentence, her eyes flying wide. Right before it was consumed by the crowd, Clover had spotted the absolute last thing she had expected to see there: a streak of fiery-red fur – just the briefest, most fleeting glimpse of it, yet sufficient to rattle the crowned lemur all the way down to the marrow...
"Huh?! Hey, you, stop! Come back here!"
Without a second's delay, she went after the figure; although the chance that this was who she thought it to be was next to zero, she had to make sure. They were long gone from sight by now, however, and Clover knew she wouldn't be catching up to them with all these people getting in the way, so instead she made a break for the bar area, which was close by, and leaped atop the first empty barstool she saw to get a better overview of the place. Ignoring the objections of bartenders and customers alike as they shielded themselves from her swishing tail, she squinted her eyes in search of that crimson shape, but whoever it was had all but disappeared.
"Hey ma'am, would you please mind getting down from there?!" she was berated by one of the barmen, "You're gonna scare away the clientele – and if you break anything, you can bet your sweet tush I'm not the one who's gonna have to pay for it!"
He was met with silence, even though he was sure she had heard him. The man put down the drink he'd been mixing, scowling deeply at her.
"Ma'am! Hellooo?"
Then, as heedless as she had come, Clover hopped off and dashed headlong into the dance floor, where the runaway could be very well hiding. She persisted past the huge whirlwind of dancing mobs, impetuously shouting at them to be let through, dismayed to find that her own cries were going unanswered as well: pretty much nobody could hear her over the blistering cacophony of music and voices that was this zone, and those who did were either too slow-moving, or too drunk to even understand what she wanted from them. But it didn't matter anyway; when she came out the other side, heaving and panting from the rush, head facing every side, everything had gone back to normal.
She had lost the lemur's track.
Her breathing hard and ragged, the king's bodyguard shook her head to herself – she could've sworn she had just seen her sister! Could've she snuck in here somehow without being caught by Butterfish or the rest of the staff? There was no way; Clover knew she wasn't nearly dumb enough to try such an inane thing – not with this many employees walking around – but then what had that been? It couldn't have been Pancho either – she had talked to him a minute ago – and Crimson was the only other lemur in the kingdom with fur like that...
Nothing. Clover ruled it must've been a simple fidget of her overworked imagination – after all, those strobes up above were washing the whole club chamber in so many colors that it really could've been anything, and then there were all these people tightly packed together, too...
She started massaging her temples, moaning, "Bloody hell, what's happening to me? I must be losing my mind!"
Left with nothing but a swelling headache, she thought it best to just move on and forget about this. The stains on her thighs had begun to dry up...
When Clover finally reached the ladies' bathroom, there was movement inside: a small troop of girls was hanging out at the far end of the room, talking and laughing and passing trivialities amongst themselves while they waited for one of their own to come out of a stall, but they left soon after Clover had entered. This left her alone with another woman. Clover didn't know her, but she did more or less recognize her as one of the participants in the pageant – she vaguely remembered seeing her that first night while queueing up with Julien and the others. She was bent over the stone sinks, applying lipstick intently – Clover supposed it was for experimenting purposes, since she had a little makeup kit all laid out beside her.
This woman seemed to be slightly younger than Clover by maybe a year or two, although it was easy to see she was pretty well-versed in cosmetics; she had already done her eyelashes, as well as applied blusher to her cheeks and shadowed around her lids with a lovely dash of burgundy. Even though her whole world right now seemed to be centered on her current task, she took her gaze off the mirror to smile and wink at the bodyguard – a sign of goodwill from one contestant to another. Her eyes then veered down to Clover's besmeared thighs, but while she appeared to chuckle inwardly, she didn't say anything on the matter.
Feeling a bit embarrassed now, Clover smiled back, quickly sidled over to the adjoining sink to switch it on, wet both of her hands, poured some liquid soap from the wall-mounted dispenser on them, and then slipped into one of the stalls, shutting its door with her foot before closing the toilet lid with her tail and sitting down on it.
"Phew... Awkward..."
Then, she got to it straight away: first she brushed her palms together to create a cleansing mixture, whereupon she began to wash her lap rigorously. It worked like a charm; within a few short minutes she'd scrubbed most of the muck off her fur. Outside, she could hear the restroom door open and close as a few more women came and went, so she locked the stall (she didn't want them going in by mistake), and hurried to finish up – once she was done, she started drying herself with the toilet paper roll. In the meantime, silence had fallen again; Clover and the other girl were the only ones in the room. The only sound of note was that of one of the sinks, which was now turned on.
"Alright. That'll do." Clover checked herself up and down; her coat was back to mint condition, soft and lustrous. With a satisfied grin on her face, she gathered the used roll in her hands to be disposed of in the toilet, and was about do just this when she heard the creak of the exterior door one more time, quiet and tentative – so, so quiet it was almost entirely obscured by the murmur of the running water.
Intrigued, Clover strained her ears. Velvety footsteps on polished limestone echoed out as their bearer slowly edged forward along the row of stalls, not ceasing till they reached the only one that was closed: Clover's. Said lemur intuitively covered herself with her tail; a thin shadow could now be made out through the gap underneath the door, just standing there completely still.
"What the hell...?" she whispered under her breath.
Suddenly, the doorknob juddered and clattered with unreasonable force – once, twice, thrice – as though whoever was outside was trying to get in, but this wouldn't happen since the door was locked.
"Hey, can't ya see it's occupied?! Have a little patience; I'll be done in a minute!" she belted out, unsettled.
There was no response. The person immediately backed away from the stall, yet didn't seem to go into any of the many free ones available. Clover's heart started racing faster at this; all her instincts were on high alert, telling her something wasn't right here. Even with her back braced against the wall, she felt an unshakeable urge to look behind her...
And then, she nearly fell over backwards at what happened next: a shrill, rending scream ripped loudly through the quietened room, followed by a hideous thud and a second crash akin to that of plastic breaking. Yowling out in fright, Clover sprang to her feet as the papers she'd been gripping were ejected from her hands and into the air, and she went to unlock the doorlatch to see what was going on out there – however, those awful sounds had startled her so much all of her fingers were shaking, meaning she only fiddled uselessly with it for what felt like hours.
"Ah, c'mon, c'mon! Work, you piece of-
Finally, it gave in; she threw the door open and bolted out of the stall – and her blood froze solid in her veins at the sight which presented itself before her.