FINDING 12 | BOYS OF TOMMEN

kiss & marry, without the kill

October 31st 2001

The pavilion was packed to the brim with people celebrating Halloween, lights flashing and music thumping in the background. I hadn't planned on coming out tonight, but I didn't want to be the odd one out in the group, so here I was, feeling a mix of excitement and dread.

Eloise and I were matching in our outfits. We were going as 'Kiss and Marry,' a spin on the kiss, marry, kill theme—just without the "kill." I was 'Kiss,' naturally, dressed in a short, tight red dress that hugged my body in all the right places. Red lipstick stained my lips, and fake lip marks adorned my neck and face, courtesy of Eloise. I even had heart-shaped earrings and clutched a heart-shaped lollipop in my hand, playing up the playful yet seductive look. It wasn't my usual style—I was used to more modest outfits—but tonight, for the first time in a while, I actually felt good about how I looked.

Eloise, on the other hand, was 'Marry.' She had on a white dress, but her version was drenched in fake blood, giving her the bride-from-hell look. Her veil, too, was covered in my lipstick marks, and she carried a bouquet of fake roses splattered with even more fake blood. Together, we looked like a perfect duo.

Casey and Aofie were also killing it—Casey dressed as a devil in tight leather and a pair of horns, while Aofie was her angelic counterpart, floating around in a halo and white dress. They were an iconic pair, as always.

But then, just as I was starting to enjoy myself, Connor appeared out of nowhere. His hand clamped down on my arm, hard enough to hurt, and his voice was a low, angry growl in my ear.

"Everyone's looking at you," he hissed.

I rolled my eyes, trying to shake him off, but Eloise laughed it off, trying to lighten the mood. "So? That's the point, Connor."

His grip tightened, and I felt my stomach churn. "I don't like it," he snapped. "You're with me. You're mine to look at. And honestly? You look like shit."

His words stung, but I wasn't about to let him get away with it. "One—you don't own me," I shot back, my voice sharp. "And two, I'm just dancing."

"Like a whore," he sneered, loud enough to draw looks from people nearby.

My heart pounded in my chest as anger boiled up inside me. "Are you fucking serious right now?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. Do you want everyone to think I'm with a whore?"

I spun around to face him, glaring up at him. "What the hell is your problem? Half the people here are dressed just like me!"

"Doesn't matter," he barked, his face flushed with anger. "They're not my girlfriends. You are. And it's embarrassing, having you shaking your ass like that for everyone to see."

Eloise grabbed my arm and tugged me away, clearly fed up with his bullshit. "Go fuck yourself, Connor," she spat before dragging me back into the crowd.

"Jesus, screw him," she said, trying to shake off the tension as we moved deeper into the mass of dancing bodies. "He has no right to talk to you like that."

I forced a smile, trying to forget about him. Destiny's Child blared over the speakers, and for a brief moment, I let myself get lost in the music, surrounded by friends. We ran into Alec, who was hilariously dressed as Marilyn Monroe, his fake blonde wig askew and his hairy legs on full display beneath a white dress. It was enough to make me laugh again.

But it didn't last long.

Connor wasn't done. He found me again, yanking me away from the group with a force that made my heart race in fear. He dragged me outside, away from the noise and laughter, into the cool October night.

"You need to go," he spat, his face contorted with rage.

My anger flared right back up. "Why? What the hell did I even do?"

He looked me up and down, disgust twisting his features. "Your outfit, for one," he growled. "Jesus, you're dressed like a slut!"

I blinked, stunned by how easily those words came out of his mouth. "How?" I shot back, my voice shaking with a mix of rage and disbelief. "Half the girls in there are dressed way more revealing than me!"

"But they're not my girlfriends, are they? You are!" He shouted, his voice rising as he stepped closer, towering over me.

Something inside me snapped. "Not anymore, you dickhead!" I yelled, turning on my heel to leave. But before I could take two steps, his hand shot out and grabbed me again, yanking me back.

"No," he snarled, his grip painfully tight. "We're talking. You don't just walk away like that!"

I could feel the panic rising in my chest, but I refused to let him see it. "What? What could you possibly have to say?"

He sneered, his face inches from mine, the smell of beer on his breath. "You're a disgrace," he spat, his eyes dark with anger. "Look at you—everyone's laughing at you."

For a moment, I froze, the weight of his words sinking in. He had a way of twisting things, making me doubt myself, making me feel like I was the one in the wrong. But I couldn't—I wouldn't-let him do that to me again.

"Fuck you, Connor," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mixture of fury and pain. "You don't get to treat me like this anymore."

He stared at me, his expression hardening as if he couldn't believe I was standing up to him. "Don't be stupid, Blair," he said, his tone suddenly shifting to something almost condescending. "You know I didn't mean it like that. You're just upset. You always overreact."

I felt my stomach churn again, that familiar feeling of guilt washing over me, making me question everything. But no—this time was different. This time, I wasn't going to let him manipulate me.

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to break down in front of him. "We're done," I said quietly, pulling my arm free from his grasp. "For good."

He scoffed, shaking his head like I was the one being unreasonable. "Fine. But don't come crying back when you realize no one else is going to put up with your shit."

With that, I turned and walked away, feeling my heart shatter into a million pieces—but also feeling, for the first time in a long time, like I was finally free.