Chapter Two
Bond, James Bond / Risky Business
"CAMILA DIWATA ABALOS Y DIMAANO!" Boomed throughout the bungalow, and Camila quickly knew she was in deep shit. Her frame froze in the full-body mirror, hands on her chest mid-way through smoothing down the front of her tux. Shittttt...
Not wanting to reveal her stolen tuxedo, Camila popped her head out of her room, peering down the rest of the house. "Yes, tatang?" She called back, a slight waver in her tone.
"Where is my suit!?" Her father shouted from his room, a few doors down from Camila.
Shit! Camila gulped down her crippling fear and let out a calming breath. "Uhh– well, you know that party I told you about?" She began, eyes widening as she watched the bedroom door open and reveal her father. He hummed back in reply.
"Well, it's a Halloween party, and we need a costume." Her father edged closer to her, and she had to refrain from retreating back into her room and ripping the tux off her body, just so the chances of him shouting at her would be lower.
"So you want to use my suit as your costume?" He asked, stopping in front of her, arms crossed. Camila nodded reluctantly. "Who could you be in a suit?"
Camila pulled open her door, revealing her full length. Needless to say, the black jacket sleeves hung slightly too much over her hands, and the shoulder pads made her look much more hench than she really was, and the dress pants hung rather loosely from her smaller frame. "James Bond?" Camila offered, gesturing to herself with a small smile in an attempt to charm her father into letting her wear his suit.
His judgemental gaze scrutinised Camila's frame, scrutinised the way she stood in his suit. But then suddenly softened as he stepped forward, arms out. "If you're going to be James Bond, at least do your tie properly," he chuckled, retying her bow tie, which had been crappily done.
When he pulled away, he looked Camila up and down one last time. "If you ruin that suit, I will kill you," he said suddenly, no trace of humour in his voice or present in his eyes.
"Yes, itang," she replied, watching him nod and walk off down the hall.
She resumed her initial place in front of the mirror, taking the last few looks at herself before leaving.
HEAVY MUSIC PULSATED FROM WITHIN TINA MILLER'S HOUSE. Three girls stood outside, already growing warm in their costumes despite the nippy air Autumn had to bring. Theodora patted down her pink dress, making sure it was as bouncy and as glittery as it was supposed to be; despite not donning the signature red Ringwald hair, it was obvious to anyone who had seen the movie that May who she was trying to be.
On Camila's other side, Coco was also wearing pink, though a much darker shade, more like magenta, but judging by her mother's shiny necklace adorning her neck, she was tributing the one and only Marilyn Monroe.
Standing between them, Camila felt quite out of place, them being in bright pink poofy dresses, and her dressed in a slick, though hand-me-down, black suit — though the Bond mindset was kicking in; two pretty girls and one playboy (well, girl) between them. They each shared a readying glance and began to walk up the porch.
Inside, the sweaty stench of alcohol and bodies rubbing together hit the senses pretty quickly.
"Wow..." Coco chuckled. "My dress is going to stink by the time I get home."
Theodora grinned at the girl, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Girl, don't worry about it. Let's get some drinks in you, and you won't even care!"
Together, practically physically stuck together as a trio, they ventured over to the drinks table, presenting a wide array of probably-spiked fruit punch and packs of cheap beer. Each grabbed a red cup and dunked it in the punch, readying themselves for a fun night.
ANOTHER CUP SLAMMED DOWN ON THE TABLE. "Refill!" Camila called out to the room, though barely being heard over the loud rock music. And the red was plunged into more red, coming up to breathe filled to the brim with fruity shit.
She was now six, maybe seven, cups in to her night, and was getting through them quick. It had hit halfway through her third cup, and now she was headbanging to KISS with a punk kid from her English Lit class.
As she brought the cup to her lips once again, fruity goodness coated her tongue and ran down her throat, filling her stomach with more liquid and her head with more delusion.
Her body moved to the music with much less rhythm than it was used to.
Another sip.
Her eyes were struggling to stay open.
Another sip.
The cup only had a small amount of punch left. Her grip loosened. It fell to the floor, splattering Tina's poor carpet with bloody red.
Someone navigating themselves through the bustling party had bumped into Camila, sending her drunken, wobbling state to the floor along with her drink.
They whipped around quickly upon hearing the thud of Camila's body colliding with the floor.
Sunglasses adorned his face and a black blazer sat over his frame. Camila knew exactly where he was from as she watched his mouth move, though she didn't listen to what he was saying. A hand reached out.
"Ohh, my God! Arr you the reallll Tom Cruise?" Camila slurred as she was pulled from the floor. "I loveddd you in Risskkk– Risky Bizniss!"
As she stared up at him through her eyelashes, her eyelids threatened to fall over her eyes. His hand stayed clutched in hers. Tom Cruise continued to speak, but in this state, and over the loud music, Camila wasn't good at understand what he was trying to say.
Utterly dazzled by this chance meeting, Camila ran a hand over his chest. Just as chiseled as she imagined it to be. And the way he stared back down at her... Though not much could be seen through those dark glasses of his, she knew he was feeling it, too.
Whatever it was, she had been feeling it since her third drink.
She pushed herself unsteadily onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. The fruity punch danced over her tongue, telling her, "Let him taste!" But before he had the chance to, a hand gripped her elbow and pulled her away from Tom.
Camila turned around to look, only to find Molly Ringwald from her movie, Sixteen Candles. Oh, wow! Tina must know all the most relevant celebrities right now!
"I am so sorry, Steve!" She cried over the music, talking to the Tom Cruise Camila had previously been kissing. "She's had way too much to drink tonight, I should take her home..."
When Camila looked back at Tom, he was already gone. He truly was the one that got away, huh?
YOU ARE READING
Kissing Habits.
Fanfictionit was only a kiss, how did it end up like this? ( stranger things 2 )
