System malfunction || DC

Chapter Nine

---------------------------------

Rum Cake

---------------------------------

With the rising sun came a sky of fire, the orange of every wintry hearth. It was the battle cry of the gathering day that the only achievement of darkness was to show the brilliance of the sun all the more clearly. Furthermore, it allows for the preparation of the coming war. In a few days' time, a war will take place among the highest and most extravagant members of high society.

Twice or thrice a year. The Wayne mansion opens its fortified gates to welcome another gathering of buzzing contestants in a competition to distinguish the most gaudy and petty of them all. The best dressed, the wealthiest, the nastiest rumors, and the dirtiest affairs. A contest masked as a supposed charity event To measure who has the most by giving the most under the disguise of being charitable and selfless.

A cock and ball fight.

What a fucking joke! Jocelyn scoffed, flicking to a different TV channel. The gossip network was her favorite; all the juicy details about the latest low-down news on the biggest and most cringiest celebs brought joy to her mundane life to point and mock. But today she couldn't bear to hear another word about this grand event.

She had far more pressing matters to worry about. Such as her lack of company. Her boys had deserted her since the dreaded event began planning. That she was complaining-cough she was coughing-it's just that there were no excuses, notifications, or heads up about their sudden disappearance. It made her feel insignificant, like a sock without its other pair. It's like no one cared enough to look for it or check that it was still inside the dryer.

Tim said he was preparing for an upcoming business event for work. She couldn't argue with work. Jason said there was a family matter happening that needed his attention. which made no sense because his family is dead. Then there was Dick, who, after breaking into her house, was exiled from the cafe and from her social networks.

"It's like they don't need me anymore," she voiced her sorrowful thoughts. Doubt began to seep deep into her very being. pulling her nerves like a harp and scratching the inside of her abdomen like a fee-ridden dog. uncomfortable. An unreachable itch that twisted and pulled her thoughts, unrooting her emotions and sending them bouncing from one side of her brain to the other.

Because it wasn't them that needed the girl in their lives. It was her. Barbara was off on some girl trip, and honestly, Jocelyn felt selfish for wanting everyone to come back to her. She had just gotten used to having people in her life, and now they had disappeared for half a week without any form of communication.

Anxiety can be compared to a plethora of things. It's like being hooked up to a cattle fence-not enough voltage to kill, but sufficient to keep things uncomfortable. Perhaps even a hole in your energy bucket. It leaves you in a trance between reality and a conscious nightmare. One that you know isn't real and yet you can't wake up or gain control. That's the downside of knowing things are awry instead of living in blissful ignorance.

What is there to do other than breathe, walk, and figure things out just a little at a time?

---------------------------------------------

And so Jocelyn appeared in the shadowed alley beside her café. Patting away the hazardous static electricity that visibly sparked off her clothes. Though Sundays were her day off, she needed to be in her safe place. Usually it would be her warehouse, but with Jason's things strewn about-marking his territory, he explained-she found that the lingering scent of the smoldering male would only worsen her mood.