Amanita: Poison Shot

Chapter 88: L'Amour Est Un Oiseau Rebelle (Love Is A Rebellious Bird)

*NOTES: Please remember that both chapters 15 and 36 (and the information that I disclosed in them) were not filtered through Daphne's POV. Those were standalone chapters from Apollo's and Agape's POV respectively, which means that Daphne knows NOTHING of what's being said there.

Besides that, translations have been provided at the end, as usual. Enjoy! 😊

A female harmonic moan resonated in the air while I walked through the closed shop of Oyster and pushed the call button of the lift that Wednesday morning. An electronic saxophone skilfully danced a melodic tango with her voice. That electronic lounge music softly echoed in every corner of Oyster, like a distant lullaby, even inside the lift as I rode up to the top floor of the building.

I checked my look one last time on the full-body mirror in the lift while going up to the top floor, where the party was being held. My shop assistant uniform was in perfect condition. Not a single wrinkle. My only complaint was that stark black and white were not my favourite combination of colours.

I had done my hair in a loose bun, leaving only a couple of wavy bangs falling freely on either side of my face. I was wearing my mother's diamonds since I was attending a special event. My father insisted.

Did he know the full truth about that day's event? Of course, not. I told my father what Mrs Nevermore wanted the people outside Oyster to know, that was, the mere fact that Oyster had won the bid – and that the model's identity was a mystery. Even though it was part of our deal and Mrs Nevermore's marketing plan, I had been invited and I was planning to enjoy myself openly as if I had had little to do with that success.

The silvery double doors of the lift opened, and I was greeted by an acoustic assault on my ears. The electronic lounge music boomed in my ears, and it whisked my thoughts away into that party-like yet formal environment.

Tall female clone models chatted amiably in small groups. Their white mascara contrasted wildly with the multicoloured eyeshadow they wore. Their faces were an explosion of colours. Many wore the trendiest outfits created by Mrs Nevermore and her design team. I recognised them from the shop.

I spotted Nausicaa in a flirty attitude with a co-worker by the bar and drinking from an expensive-looking, fancy, deep pink drink with a slice of pineapple on the glass. The buttons of her white blouse were undone way below her breasts. Her black push-up bra was putting a generous cleavage on display. She looked dashing but slutty. And drunk. And it was only nine in the morning.

A familiar dark-haired bob called my attention right behind Nausicaa. It was Mirela. She was snogging a female model by the bar. I assumed she was drunk too, but after what she had admitted to me the previous day, I supposed she was on board with any kind of slutting around if it suited her ambition.

Her skirt was so short that I could almost see her panties. Oh, wait. No, I wouldn't see them any time soon because the model she was making out with put both her hands on her ass, her fingers below the seam in an exploring kind of mood.

I averted my eyes with a look of disgust and "I-can't-unsee-this-please-God-help-me" kind of face. As soon as I had done so, Kono called my attention. She came walking to me with a broad smile and offered me a glass of champagne.

"You're gonna need this if you want to survive this party, honeysuckle."

I drank it all in one go as if it was a glass of whiskey. I had seen that move in some films when a character needs to deal with something hard. The bubbles harshly tickled in my throat. I coughed a couple of times.