Dank_Howellelujah

I

The icy and frigid wind nips and pinches ruthlessly at Christina's cherubic face. Her cheeks are a vibrant shade of pink, and so is her nose. Her hair flies free and collects stray snowflakes in the tangles like bugs in a spiderweb. It's caked with snow, frosty at the tips.

She's been waiting for nearly an hour.

A gloved hand reaches at the edge of the building and grips tightly. The glove is flimsy and black. It has a single white ring on the back.

Christina doesn't look to see to whom the glove belongs to. She continues looking out over the New York skyline. "You're late."

"Will you help me up? I climbed out the window to get up here."

Christina doesn't answer.

The person huffs. "Fine, then. I'll do it myself."

A shoe swings up lands on the edge deck, three-ish feet away from the gloved hand. The shoe is space-patterned, with white laces. It's connected to a leg, which is covered with black denim.

A little shimmy, and the entire person is on the deck, mere feet away from Christina. She still doesn't tear her eyes away from the city skyline.

"I've waited an hour for you," she finally says, without turning.

"There was traffic. What else did you expect? It's New York City." The person removes a black beanie to reveal a head full of dark brown, very messy, kind of curly, vaguely-Kylo-Ren-esque hair. The beanie is thrown carelessly to the deck, where it lies in a desolate heap, accumulating snowflakes in its fibers.

Christina's face is illuminated by the abundant lights around the deck. "We finally agree to meet, and you're late. It's cold out."

"You're lucky I showed up at all," Space Shoes retorts, jabbing a black-gloved finger at Christina. "I considered just letting you stay up here for the entire night, freezing to death. It would've been better than the fate you're about to meet."

Christina laughs. Her laugh is reminiscent of Phil Lester's- a light, happy giggle. But it doesn't burst with its usual cheer this time. It's a laugh of scorn, of doubt, maybe of pity. "You wish, Mimi."

Mimi rolls her eyes. "Let's just get this over with. Are we familiar with the terms and rules?"

"You win if the other forfeits, or if they are unable to fight anymore. Like a Pokémon battle. And the winner takes all." Christina locks eyes with Mimi- piercing winter blue clashing against soft brown.

"Weapon of choice?"

Christina extracts a standard baking whisk from her coat pocket.

"Okay, that's legal."

"And for you?"

Mimi digs in her pockets and comes up with a set of Legos.

Christina inhales. "That may be against the rules."

"I thought that might happen. So instead, I have some cringe-worthy 2010 memes that I printed out." She roots in her other pocket for some slightly crumpled paper and smooths it out for Christina to see.

Christina winces. "Is that... a Chuck Norris meme?"

Mimi nods grimly.

"Okay." She shudders. "Let's do it."

"Wait- one more thing." Mimi brings out her phone and taps the screen. Fall Out Boy's The Phoenix begins to play.

"Put on your war paint," Patrick Stump's buttery voice urges.