WE ARE THE D.S (Somos la D.S - English version)

13. LOST ANGELS

Protocols, protocols and more protocols. That's what life in society would seem like, but I always manage to make my life fun.

The flashes glare in my face and I settle in for Bernard, two seconds later the photo will be all over the internet.

Heirs, the perfect couple, a couple of young people simply attending Luttia Belmont's party. Party that on the outside is luxury, ostentation, but the truth is far from that. I know, as I watch Bernard approach my side.

His eyes traced by the sky fall on my face. His delay in the bathroom has been longer than expected and it's not due to some stomach ailment or anything like that, but Bernard was just stocking up on perks to get us all flying in an hour.

"Did you get them?"

François suddenly looks up at us and Bernard's gaze turns murderous, almost as if he wants to make him disappear.

"Can you keep your voice down?" He mumbles and I smile.

Prudence has never been one of François' virtues. That prudence that has always been a requirement when it comes to the elite and the party that surrounds us, speaks for itself.

Luttia's club, clad in black walls and glittering chandeliers looks like a fine bar for people with money. But what hides as a normal party, is actually a pit of pleasure and lust.

Many might think that we are a couple of materialists who have opted for black or white clothing. That it's simply a theme party where choosing dark and light is the only requirement. The truth is that people who have been coming to this party for years know why secret rooms are hidden like passages in the club, why Bernard passes a black and white pill to François, who simply walks away in his black suit back to the dance floor. Here we are all tainted, we are harbingers of darkness and even though in a naive attempt to dress in long gloves and a very short white dress, I know I am further away from the light as I would want to be.

"How much are you staring?"

I ask the black-suited boy in front of me. I know, Bernard always assumed the dark side, my attempt is obsolete, even Luttia's in trying to wear both colors as a hostess. We all know that our actions already doomed us and no matter how many attempts to camouflage ourselves among the dark beings of hell, the people dressed in white tonight, we are just lost angels begging for darkness.

Bernard drinks from his glass and observes me this time after taking the spotlight off François who seems to move his body smooth and relaxed: "Remember last summer at Luttia's? The scotch, the games with ice?"

The memories come to my head like a whirlwind and the blood rushes up to my face.

How can I forget?

Alcohol, high temperature, ice. Two hours later we were dragging François to Bernard's  room. And without being able to explain how, it just happened. I was left in the middle of their two bodies.

"Yes, why?"

"Don't you want company in bed tonight?"

I am surprised for a moment by Bernard's proposal, although I shouldn't be, and I hesitate before speaking.

"I knew you had always liked François, but should I start to worry?" I joke and Bernard smiles through his glass.

"Of course not, I just love watching you turn on when I'm with him" his hand falls on my leg and my hormones start jumping on their own. "Besides, I'm master of the fucking masochism of knowing someone else can touch you, but I still feel like you're mine."

His fingers move on my exposed leg making small circles and my whole system goes off the rails when I meet his burning gaze. Now I know why Bernard chose black tonight.