𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ➶

𝕊𝕚𝕩𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥 ℝ𝕒𝕧𝕖'ℕ

The Rave'N was right around the corner now! Valentina was counting the days leading up to it. This wouldn't be like the normie middle school dances she'd attended in her youth. It would be more sophisticated than that!

Deuce expressed his doubts on how well the students would accept having a band instead of a DJ, but she felt it would make the event feel even fancier... Less like a high school affair and more like an actual masquerade ball.

Her boyfriend and girlfriend were excited as well. Gomez was even taking Morticia dress-shopping in Jericho.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to come with us?" The older girl sighed, cradling Valentina's face in the palms of her hands. She had the hands of a pianist, slender with long fingers. Her fingernails were always painted wine red. Never chipped. Never scuffed.

"We can still buy you a dress, even if it's not the dress you choose to wear to the Rave'N," Gomez argued, hovering just over Morticia's shoulder, like a shadow.

Valentina had to admit that she was a little jealous. He seemed to be much more enthusiastic about Morticia's dress search than Deuce was about hers. Then again, Deuce wasn't her boyfriend.

"No, no, that's alright," she told them both. "I'll stay here and study."

"If you won't show us your dress, then at least describe it to us," Gomez wheedled. "How else are we going to be a matching trio?"

She shook her head. "I don't want you two sacrificing your aesthetic just to match mine." Then, when they still looked at her in concern, she said, "Let me surprise you! Maybe you'll even like it." That was unlikely, though. Their styles couldn't be more different.

"Of course we'll like it, mon chou," Morticia cooed. "You would look stunning even wearing just a potato sack." She looked over her shoulder at Gomez, who was nodding in an overzealous manner.

Yeah, right... Valentina couldn't trust their eyes, seeing as they were blinded by love.

To further surprise them, she decided to get ready with CC as opposed to Morticia. A chill ran down her spine and her blood went cold when the realization dawned on her that the last time she got ready with CC was before her fake date with Deuce, the night Gomez almost killed her. Hopefully that wasn't a bad omen.

Maybe she should have practiced with the curling iron a little on a night she didn't need her hair to be flawless, but oh well. It took a good two hours of prep work to get everything close to perfect. But, at the end, she was covered in glitter and smelled strongly of fresh-cut roses..

It worked out well that Gomez had gotten her a corsage of roses. Morticia already picked out his boutonniere, so the little freshmen didn't need to bring anything. Her only complaint was the roses were black, so they clashed terribly with her dress. She couldn't say anything, seeing as how well they matched Gomez and Morticia's attire.

Then again, they could make dead daisies look good.

Morticia wore a black satin trumpet-fit gown with a plunging backline. Gomez wore a well-tailored silver-pinstripe black suit. They didn't so much as bat an eye at her choice of dress even though it was a pastel daydream.

"You look ravishing," Morticia cooed, cupping Valentina's face in her hands before pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks.

"You don't have to act like you like it," the younger girl muttered, trying her best to keep the defeat out of her tone. She still sounded a little like a petulant child, though.

"Nonsense! We love it!" Gomez argued before taking one of her arms and pressing a line of kisses up the back of it.

She pulled away before he made it past her elbow. "Enough, enough! Let's just go inside already."

Inside was worse than the out. Don't get her wrong... The decorations were to die for. The whole party looked like it had been ripped out of The Great Gatsby!

Except, in the 1920's novel, the party goers had been too wrapped in their own exorbitance that they hadn't eyes for anything or anyone else. Here, everyone turned to look at them as they entered.

They're not looking at you, Valentina told herself. They're looking at Morticia and Gomez! But she was with Nevermore's power couple --a badly-matching accessory-- so, of course, they were looking at her too.

Unhelpfully, her brain began to pick out every single one of her imperfections, pulling at them like loose threads. Her corsage didn't match her outfit. There was a miniscule snag in her right nude stocking. A few of the curls on the back of her head were already falling out.

But, when you pull at a loose thread, you risk ruining the garment. And every second she remained the center of attention, the risk of her completely unraveling rose.

Luckily, Gomez drew her attention away from the sea of judgemental faces staring back at her before she broke down in public. "May I have this dance?" He asked with a grin, taking her by the hand.

"No!" She said, much too sudden and far too loud. Then, quickly and quietly tacked on to her initial response, "No, thank you."

As he blinked at her incredulously, Morticia pressed close to her side... Kind of like a python measuring its prey before it swallowed it whole. "Then may I have this dance?"

Valentina frantically shook her head with a nervous laugh. "Why don't you two go cut a rug? I'll go get some punch!" Hopefully no one had spiked it yet.

Her partners looked conflicted, but then the song changed and they shared A Look.

"Tish... El Tango de Roxanne!" Gomez noted, gazing deeply into Morticia's eyes.

"I know, mon amour," she answered, breathless with desire. No wonder they were excited. A tango suited them perfectly. The passion... The drama... "But--" Here, she looked back at their little third-wheel.

"What are you waiting for? Go, dance!" Valentina said with her most encouraging smile. It was for her good as well as theirs. She was in desperate need of some space. "I'll be here when you get back."

She stood by and watched as they took to the dance floor. She wasn't alone in her voyeurism, either. Being the envy of all, everyone's eyes followed them. She was finally out of the spotlight.

Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to relax, to breathe easy.

Gomez and Morticia were perfect for each other in all ways. The perfect match. And, beside them, Valentina was acutely aware of how out-of-place she looked, like a flower in the wrong bouquet.

Suddenly, even being in the same room as them made her feel claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in. She rushed out of the side exit, closing the door behind her and pressing her back to it as a blockade.

Mindful of her eye makeup, she did her best to hold back the floodgates for as long as she could. But eventually one tear slipped out, followed by another and another. Soon she started crying in earnest.

She'd never felt so guilty in all her life. She'd essentially conned her way into a relationship that she never should have been a part of. Instead of bringing about new love, she was feasting off an existing love, like a parasite.

If her mother ever found out, she'd be ashamed to call Valentina her successor. And that --more than anything-- broke her heart.