Fever Dream Red

15

I awoke much like I had fallen asleep: with haze and restrain.

I lay there for ages, dreading properly waking up to the day. I knew today would be the day I would have to wear the pretty clothes and eat the expensive food. I would have to actually live here.

I wasn't made for this. I was too tiring, too cynical, too short. Some other person, like Sunny or Doug, would be ecstatic at the shiny things. Maybe I was cynical. Maybe this would be cool.

But if this was really cool, then why did Nick have to force us here? Why did he have a gun at the back of our heads?

Why did he scare us to death?

An ominous knock called. Slow and steady pulses on the door, like Death had finally arrived to take me whole.

"Coming!" I called, practically pulling myself off of the bed. One quick glance in the mirror told me I was a mess; messy hair winding every which way, old clothes from the day before made me feel as dirty as I would if I had spent a night in a garbage can.

I opened the door nevertheless.

It was Nick. He looked terrifyingly on point. His suit was the same, but somehow cleaner. I didn't even know how that was possible.

His hair was gelled again, and he still had his sunglasses on, shielding the true colour of his eyes. His mouth was upturned in a cheesy grin, and I wasn't entirely sure why.

I, on the other hand, was a mess. As I said, my hair was wild. My skin was potchy. My lips were about as rough as sandpaper.

I also noticed that my socks were mismatched. I didn't really care at that point: it was an apocalypse, after all.

"Hello, Pheonix!"

I cringed. I hate my real name. Who names a baby Pheonix? As in, the mythical creature?

I fear I've fallen short of my name. But maybe I'll prove to live up to it sometime.

My nickname Finny isn't much better either. It's one vowel away from...

You know what? Nevermind.

Anyway, I was cringing. Badly. So badly I would only hold my hand up in an embarressed wave.

"I see you're...dressed."
"Actually, I'm not."

An awkward pause ensued. I looked anywhere but Nick's face. I stared at the marble floor in the hallway, wondering how it was placed there.

"It is twelve. Maybe you should start thinking about it?"

I wasn't happy with that. Nick had virtually forced us here and now he was making requests about what time we should be waking up. He needed taking down a peg or two. Just not yet. I wasn't that confident to say any of that to his face.

"Cool." I shrugged him off. I was already done with this conversation. I was already done with this day.
"There's some in the wardrobe."
"That's normally where they're stored."
"What?"
"Clothes."

Nick face abruptly ironed it out.

"Less of the cheek."

I shut the door with an unconscious slam and I stumbled to the wardrobe.

I opened it with weariness and expectations of expected disappointment.

My wishes were fulfilled. Inside the horrors of manky glamour hung like cadavers in the gallows.

Nice dresses that you would see in film were warped and disfigured, looking lifeless in the wardrobe.

I hated it.

I hated the splendour of it all. An apocalypse was occurring. It wasn't the time for elegant dinner parties and champagne pools.

I didn't want to look pretty.

I wanted to live. Living didn't involve strapping myself into backless scarlet dresses with a plunging neckline. It meant swimming in the wild sea, sleeping in the sand, sunbathing in a rose garden.

So I wore something else. Something I had packed myself. My black tracksuit bottoms and my cropped tee. This was the most glamorous I was going to get.

I brushed my hair into a respectable state and put some studs in my ears. I padded down the great marble staircase that belonged in some castle in my white socks. They wouldn't get dirty: that floor was surely pristine.

I came down to the canteen, the natural opulence shocking me for a minute.

All eyes turned to me, instantly turning to distaste, like something had turned rotten in their mouths. They looked me up and down, as if I was some freak show they were observing.

None of my lot were even there.

I gave the strangers a dirty look back. They were the freaks, not me.

I pulled up to the canteen with my tray, waiting to be fed like a schoolchild. Or perhaps Oliver Twist.

The lady serving me looked at me sourly. She could contest Eli's dirties.

She asked me what I wanted and I surveyed the options. It was lunch now I had woken up late.

Everything was green. There was nothing much else. Just salad, with some chicken and maybe bacon mixed in. Was it caesar, The green was just divided over multiple slots.

I got a caesar salad, just glad to stuff something in my mouth. If it was poisoned, then at least I would be getting out of here quickly.

I put it in my mouth at an alarming rate, sat on the white chair on a white table in the corner. The others were whispering quietly, glancing at me occasionally. It was easy to tell they were chatting about me. They were bad gossipers.

I sat there munching on my caesar salad, utterly contemplating my life decisions that had led to this moment. The caesar salad was nice though. Bit too much green for my liking.

I was lost in my own world when someone walked through the door.

My jaw dropped. Kinda. It was Danny. But he was...different. He was in flash suit, for starters. His once wacky hair had been tamed, at last. He had the strange sunglasses on. He was one of them. He had changed.

It was then I realised that everyone was changing in favour of this strange place.

It was then that I felt alarmingly underdressed for the occasion.

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