◤𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕪◢ - It Started With Vomit!

Chapter 28: A Scandalous Affair

But, unfortunately, that didn't do the trick. A once enthusiastic car ride descended into a dreary state of affairs, the atmosphere heavier than lead.

Good-spirited banter exchanged between the two friends settled into an awkward pause, rendering all that could be heard crickets—along with incessant friction of rubber and asphalt, and overpowering sounds of nearby ocean lappings, and the heavy sound of air particles whooshing around their vehicle, being split violently apart by slick metal.

Aware of the recurring sound of blinkers going on and off indicating an approaching end to their journey, "Maybe what you're feeling is mere lust," Rouge said, laying it thick with a trowel as a last-ditch effort of mending loose ends. There's only so much time a person can live under the same roof with an Adonis and not want to rip their clothes to shreds and have at it, after all. But Amy vied that the excuse wasn't "excusable-enough," repudiating several other sensible possibilities Rouge had (very patiently) offered. 

An asinine debate broke out, arguing the feasibility of reasons behind Shadow's "erotic" effect on people, and every second felt like a twisted form of punishment. Worst than the time Rouge was forced to write out—not type out—a 5000-word essay, apologizing for a crime she hadn't committed; illegal possession of drugs, to be accurate, planted underhandedly by Sally Acorn, an insecure student who feared that her "friend's" 4.9 GPA would impede her Oxford scholarship.

A goddamn scholarship.

The girl was rich enough to jet to all of Hawaii, Germany, Egypt, or god knows where else at any point in the year, yet she somehow saw it impossible to pay for university tuitions, being the daughter of an infamous, lucrative oil and gas company shareholder. 

Really—Sally Acorn was easily the most dramatic person Rouge swore she'd ever come across. However, witnessing how excitedly Amy concurred when she jokingly suggested that super-advanced plastic surgery technology could be why "Shadow is a realized mortal incubus or something," Rouge's previous suppositions crumbled to the ground.

Nothing about the statement had made sense, but Rose was too keen on the idea. So hell-bent, it inspired more complications of inane possibilities which collectively formed a lengthy, questionable list—of which black magic ranked highest, naturally.

"Of course, he's a member of a very secret alien civilization." Rouge agreed robotically, alighting the vehicle after Amy tottered her way out, feeling the car's peaceful decelerate. "But right now, I need you to stay focused."

"Focused?"

"Yes, focused!" She clenched her friend's shoulders and soldiered towards an expertly crafted rosewood door, past lusciously carved green hedgerows and a sinuous flagstone path. 

Before ringing the bell, after much self-prep and needed motivation, the two women discussed the processions that would follow when they were escorted into the large chateau-style stone mansion. 

As Mr. Crane conscientiously heaved several flower baskets, a cellar's worth of wine, and chocolate galore of every assortment with the rarest flavours to-and-fro, an equitable agreement established that Amy would allow Rouge to do most of the talking, for obvious reasons—like Rose's penchant for becoming easily emotional.

Rouge Bat never knew much about Ruby Bat, except for her mother's sweet tooth and over-indulgent wine habits, which were as apparently common sense, like two-plus-two. They both barely spent time together when Rouge was still considered a member of this family, hardly spoke to each other, apart from at dinner time when Mr. Bat may or may have not shown up.

Business out of town was always the excuse, so Rouge didn't get to know her father either, spending holidays at the Hedgehogs', where she was always caught in between Shadow and Sonic's petty shenanigans, only to be rescued by Maria, Lucy, or—even though Rouge hated to admit it—Sally Acorn, as well.