Elysian Fields (A Kyman Fanfiction)

Chapter 21: DARE

My fingers clasp the cool glass of the chandelier as the the grins and clapping of strangers replace the sturdy floor underneath my black sneakers. I feel both invincible and totally mortal at the same time. Finally, after a few terrifying swings back and forth, I drop, letting myself be caught by a combination of friends and acquaintances. I regain my bearings and vertigo overtakes my pulsating head. Strangers pat me on the back and say various phrases but I can't hear a thing, instead focusing on the appreciative smile on Cartman's face. I can't help but grin back through the terror.

"Haha! I can't believe you actually did it!" Kenny slams me with one open faced palm on my back and hands me the shared champagne bottle. I gladly swig back another large gulp, my heart still threatening to beat out of my chest.

"Neither can I," I admit breathlessly. The alcohol combined with the peer pressure pushed me from sanity to fun, I guess.

"Looks like your balls finally dropped-- this calls for celebration! Garçon!" Cartman's eyes are half-lidded, seeming to approve of my less-than-smart move.

He snaps and points toward the three of us. "Bring us shots of your finest whiskey!"

Moments later, while I'm still soaring on the adrenaline high, the closest servant brought the three of us glittering gold double-shots of Maker's Mark, as described by the bottle. Kenny and Cartman eagerly grab theirs, while I am a bit more hesitant.

"What's wrong?" Kenny asks. Sweat glistens on his forehead behind strands of dirty blonde shag, illuminated by the dancing chandelier lights above.

I half grin, "I don't really drink whiskey--

"I dare you to drink that shot," Kenny's aqua eyes dance in the reflection of the crystals.

I sigh, "So that's what we're doing? Truth or dare? Isn't that completely juvenile?"

"Pussy," Cartman murmurs before downing his shot.

I don't think twice before I finger the glass and slurp it, the alcohol burning on the way down and causing my eyes to water. Kenny follows suit and Cartman remains silent, inquisitively staring at me again. He makes me so nervous when he does that, I just automatically assume he's plotting to kill me. The brunette suddenly unbuttons his blue blazer, and loosens his tie, showing just enough of his skin to get my imagination working. Wait-- I'm overheating, and I'm not supposed to be thinking about that. I must be drunk. My button down feels too constricting for this packed party, so I undo the top and loosen the tie. Kenny was smart to wear a t-shirt. I hand my grey blazer to the blonde servant and he bows, retreating into a distant room with a certainly already bursting closet.

"Alright, I get a dare now, right? That's two I've done," my head is spinning, but I have to focus. Do not let your guard down, Broflovski.

Truth or dare, huh. Getting Kenny to do things would be easy, but getting Cartman... that would be the challenge. My eyes scan the exquisite room and the grand hallways beyond. What is some way I could really fuck with him, as payback for all the times at work he's fucked with me. All the blackmail, all the deception...

I catch a glimpse of Stan and Wendy arguing loudly, but we're so far away it looks like a soap opera on mute. Jimmy is talking to a group of college blonde girls, all giggling and hiding malicious smiles behind manicured hands. Finally, I recognize Craig and Tweek laughing in the hallway, sharing an Irish coffee between the two. Why not rustle the asshole's boxers a little.

"I dare you... to kiss Craig," I point toward the expansive hallway, where the surly teen is talking to his "pretend" boyfriend, again.

Kenny's sudden laughter causes champagne to squirt out of his nose like a delayed sprinkler, while Cartman just fixes his face into a scowl.