𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 || EDDIE MUNSON

Hollywood and Her Companions

HALLOWEEN was by far Brandy's favorite holiday, besides Christmas of course. Something about the gift giving and sitting by a fire with a hot cup of cocoa warming her hands just made her smile. Though Halloween was a close second.

When she was young it was full of excitement, being whoever you wanted for a night, staying up until the infamous witching hour, and eating candy until you thought you would puke. Now she and her peers seemed to swap out puking from candy consumption to alcohol consumption. Brandy still dressed up, she found it fun, though she could never get Jameson to do costumes with her anymore. He preferred to be independent in his Halloween outfit of choice, quote;

"People always think it's a couples costume, it's impossible to get a date around you."

Brandy didn't mind him ditching her this year much, as she had finally convinced Tate, Tracie, and Chrissy to do costumes with her. They weren't all connected directly to one another, more so around the same era. Besides Tate's, which she despised, but was overall okay with the idea of being a decade or three sooner than the other girl's costumes.

Tracie was Jennifer Ballard from Gun Fury, Chrissy was Rita Hayworth in Gilda, and Tate as Papitou from Siren of the Tropics. Brandy had dressed as The Girl from Seven Year Itch, Brandy just adored Marylin Monroe, not so much her bright red lipstick. "This is so impossibly messy," She huffed, capping the tube of lipstick and throwing it onto the bed.

"C'mere," Tate sauntered over to her, her silent film makeup flattering her deep-set eyes.

"Why do you all look so nice but I can't even put on lipstick," She muttered while Tate used her thumb to clean up the harsh edge's around the blonde's cupid's now.

They were in Tracie's room, a War record scratched silently atop the record player in the corner of her room, and the scent of one of her many candles that burned emitted a fruity fragrance into the air as they got ready. The girls had already begun their drinking festivities for the night as well, which hindered their ability to efficiently manage time, though Tracie had already dropped off a ginormous bowl of punch at Carver's house beforehand.

Two things about that made Brandy nervous, one: Carver's party. Jason Carver was known to have ragers where teens got so drunk that you'd find them crawling across the from lawn puking their guts up at three in the morning, jumping from the roof into the neighbor's pool, plastic cups strewn about the yard and toilet paper hanging from the tree limbs. Not to mention the destruction of which happened within the home. But with the tensions with the boy recently, she wasn't sure he would be completely reliable to be around.

And two: Tracie's punch. Even if there was a substantial amount of fruit juice and cut-up lemons and oranges, or even a liter of sprite with scoops of sherbert ice cream on top... Nothing, and she meant nothing, could take away from the taste of pure liquor that resided in that punch. Last Halloween Brandy had made the mistake of eating a few of the maraschino cherries at the bottom of the bowl. Needless to say, she was the poor soul crawling across the lawn at ungodly hours, puking up her guts.

By no means was Brandy intending to stay sober that night, that's what Jameson was for, sure he was getting the short stick by being the girl's babysitter but he was happy to do so. Keeping them in order and out of trouble seemed to be his Halloween tradition. And by no means could Brandy stay sober around Carver, especially in light of recent events. She felt guilty enough even going with what happened to Eddie's van, which took three hours to fully clean, she might add.

But it would only get worse for both Eddie and herself if she decided to alienate Jason, call him out for his actions and general attitude. But Brandy wasn't some brave lion-like Nancy Wheeler, she wasn't a 'take no shit' person like Tate, and she certainly wasn't going to stand up to Jason. On top of the sheer social power he had was terrifying, and psychically he was quite threatening. Bordering on daunting.