Midnight Orchestra

Checkmate

Merry Christmas! And, as promised, here's my Christmas gift for you, Rizza! I love you so much, and I hope my story doesn't disappoint you. Sorry, I haven't had the time to write this before Christmas Day, but hey, my Halloween special came out on December, right? My Christmas special will probably be out next month. XD

I tried making it as short as possible, by the way. I didn't want to write a lengthy SHORT story, because, well, it didn't sound right to me right now. Perhaps I'll make a long one on Midnight Orchestra someday?

I'm partying hard (alone) because In Technicolor Part 1 is out. Checkmate is such a great song! ♥

———————

Checkmate

———————

          That's a line from the song, not his heart.

———————

          "For the umpteenth time, no!"

          "But, Rizza, we need you to be in that dance," Amber retorts.

          "Amber, leave me the heck alone if you wanna live in peace."

          A spiky-haired boy playing with his car keys enters the conversation, annoying me even more. "Oh, come on, Rizzy. Ya know ya love shakin' yo booty." With a wicked grin, he wiggles his hips in a way Beyonce does in the music video of Single Ladies. "Oh, yeah...Uh huh..."

          Disgusting.

          Our group watches him dance on his seat with widened eyes. After a minute or two, we unanimously decide to let him be. Len starts fumbling in her bag for her earphones, while Cam already has her headphones on her head, listening to songs only she and Francine understand. Amber mutters a few incoherent words even she can't understand, her head floating once again. Everyone's busy doing their thing. Perhaps this is the perfect time to sneak outside?

          Then someone falls down from the stool, face flat on the ground.

          "Darcy!"

          Our friend wakes up the moment we scream her name, shaking the dizziness out of her head as she scurries back to her chair. She's always like that, but we don't know if she's suffering from narcolepsy or she's just naturally a hibernator.

          "Now, what?" Josh, the boy in the cap, says. Obviously, he's dying to get out of here so he can play cards with his best buddy Raf, the spiky-haired boy.

          "Now," Amber replies, "Rizza agrees to be a part of the dance, and we'll all live happily ever after."

          "No, we don't."

          Amber glares at me. "We won't if you don't agree to be a part of the music video."

          I cross my arms over my chest. "Exactly."

          "Shut your big mouths, you little–"

          "You shut your foul mouth and keep your yellow eyes on the road!" Nikki yells at the cab driver.

          Oh, what have I gotten myself into? Why does Cam have to forget to bring her car with her all the time? Why have I even agreed to be a part of this dance?

          The driver still doesn't get the message. His head is still facing the wrong direction, and he's driving like a blind caveman who's never driven a car before. "I don't want you messing around in my cab, talking too loud like chickens running around the farms!" And that Jewish accent makes everything sound worse. Now, I don't have anything against Jewish people. I just hate this one.