Children screeched and laughed unrhythmically as they threw balloons and toys at one another. Annabelle's mother carried out the big spongecake covered in white icing that had two burning candles on it, which were molded into a 15. Annabelle would've preferred if there weren't so many young children at her party but was getting cake and presents. She'd save her complaining for later. She was told to make a wish when she blew out the candles. She took a moment to look around the room. There were so many expectant faces, even the ones in the kitchen were watching with mild interest. She looked at the white walls that would've been completely blank and boring if it didn't have all her old film posters hanging up in thick frames. Old styled musicals mostly, where she would burst into some fantastical dance routine. She took four years worth of tap dancing classes. Her mother thought it would be better for her, give her a chance to get ahead. In a way, it did and she was right. She was in ten films from the age of six onwards. Everyone knew about Annabelle. But it all went away, she wasn't cute anymore. She was too awkward for anything. All she had was a room full of posters and silly memorabilia from sets that her mother had "borrowed". She looked back to the cake sitting right in front of her on the table and leaning in close to the candles.
"I want a dog," She whispered, then let out a breath to extinguish the candles. And the child-star was met with a cheer from her mother, her mother's friends, their kids, her cousins and her cousins' friends.
"Well, isn't that nice?" Victor turned from the doorframe to look at his companions who were also loitering in the kitchen.
"I thought she'd be more into the idea of meeting me," Victor's half-brother sighed, visibly disappointed with the outcome of the day.
"Just because every other girl is drooling over you doesn't mean a fifteen year old introvert will,"
"Trixie, don't be a bitch," He looked at the only girl in the room, who had just lit a cigarette for herself with a light shrug, "All I'm saying is we're both celebrities for the town. She's probably the most iconic person we know,"
"What about Ian?" Victor said, reaching for an apple from the very polished counter.
"Ian is only famous now cause of Fiona dying," He waved his hand, dismissing the thought, "Nobody reads his books anymore,"
"He's more famous that you," Trixie exhaled a cloud of grey air, raising her black eyebrows.
"I am famous though,"
"Peter, you play on the town football team," Victor chuckled, "You're not a fucking messiah,"
"Vic told you not to come here with him," Trixie shrugged against Peter's shocked expression.
"I thought she'd be more hyped," He argued.
"I told you she wouldn't," Victor laughed, taking a big bite from the red fruit in his hand, "I did say that I was brought here as a last minute thing,"
"Yeah, it must be a policy," Peter smiled then, mischief clear in his eyes, "Call the stoner fortune teller is you've accidentally booked a whore magician," His laughter was cut off when Trixie flicked some of her cigarette's embers at his face.
"I'm not a whore, you pig," She glowered at the very word.
"Anymore," Victor added.
"Yes, anymore," She sighed, already exasperated.
"I'm surprised they didn't evict you when they realized it was you they had booked," Victor said.
"They did. I just haven't left yet," She smirked, "When are you set to read their fortunes?"
"As soon as the mothers call me in," He took another bite of the apple, "Or when the brats drag me out by my ear,"
Trixie snorted at that and looked around swiftly for an ashtray but she gave up after two seconds and grabbed a glass and tapped her excess ash into it.
"Oh, I heard you're a witness," She smirked at her friend, setting the glass down on the counter again.
"How do you know about that?" He creased his brows, generally perplexed.
"Your dad told me," She said, "I hitched a lift in his cab last night,"
"Like you can afford a taxi," Peter scoffed.
"I can't help it that your dad loves me," She blinked several times, over-dramatically.
"There's definitely a reason men love you, Trixie," He leaned towards her, taking a thread of her fishnets between his fingers and letting go, snapping it back against the pale skin of her legs.
"Fuck off, Peter," She pushed him back.
"Just saying," He put up his hands in defense.
"Pub tonight?" Victor placed the apple cordon the pristine counter, letting it fall on its side.
"Yeah, I practically live there," Trixie said.
"I have course work due for tomorrow," Peter said, somewhat reluctantly. Straight away the other two erupted into a chorus of Oooohs and smirks.
"Oh, Mr. Local IT is too good for J's pub," Trixie grinned.
"So sophisticated," Victor winked at his half-brother.
"You're both wasters, at least I'm doing something," Peter folded his arms across his chest, "I'm doing something with my life,"
"I wish I was you," Trixie's voice was dripping with sarcasm and caused Victor to be doubled over with laughter.
"Haha, do they give classes on humour in that brothel?" Trixie was about to grab his hand to press her cigarette against his palm. But there was a light knock on the open door, disturbing her anger. The three young adults, because they were supposed to be adults, turned to see the birthday girl herself, gazing at them with shy but hopeful eyes.
"Mum wants you gone," She muttered, barely audible enough for them to hear.
"Where is she?" Trixie brought the cigarette back to her painted lips.
"She's lying down, she couldn't handle it," She certainly wasn't smirking but Annabelle had a smirk in her voice, totally amused by her mother's behavior.
"I'm gone," Trixie laughed non-musically, squishing her nicotine fix on the bottom of the glass. She gave Victor a kiss on both cheeks and sashayed around the kitchen counter, "Good luck with the fortunes, see you later,"
"Bye, Trixie," He waved though she was no longer looking. Her battered black heels clicked against the black and white tiles and then disappeared once she had left through the sliding glass door to the patio.
•~~×~~•
Reyn was in geography, pretending that everything was normal. Urbanization really wasn't on list of interests at that time so his mind wandered. He couldn't help it. Everything that was going on was bound to catch up with him at that moment. Every last detail and he remembered it. He remembered the gore. There was so much blood. She wasn't his girlfriend but that didn't mean anything once he seen her lying in the smoking area, stone cold and covered in red.
He was just remembering the moment when he and Bradley had looked at her murderer when he saw something outside the window. Someone hanging around the nearby trees. They were trying to stay hidden but Reyn was well aware who would be paying him a visit during school hours. As soon as the bell tolled, he went outside to them.
"Bradley," He said, "Do you have to come to my school to talk? Is it really that important?"
"It's urgent," His voice was heavy, "The police called me, they want me down at the station, they'll probably want to see you too,"
"What!?"
"Keep your voice down," Bradley led him away from the school, keeping their backs to the building and its students," Someone must've seen us there and told. Reyn, we did nothing wrong,"
"We've withheld information and hidden evidence," Reyn looked at him in horror, "What are we supposed to tell them?"
Bradley didn't say anything. It suddenly hit him that he was four years older than Reyn and that he was probably looking for guidance. But he had none for him.
"They'll probably be calling for you soon. Be ready," And he left him. But jot before realizing there was another pair of eyes on them, "What're you looking at?"
Femme shrugged and went back inside, feeling sick to her stomach. She had seen them again. Together. Talking. Conspiring? She didn't know what to do. But as soon as she went to her locker she saw Ariel coming towards get, her golden locks askew. The artsy blonde was not looking her best.
"You're still ill?" Femme was naturally getting worried. It had been just over a week since Ariel had initially gotten sick in the Hotspot café.
"It's just a bug," She shook her head
"Go home or tell your parents or something,"
"No!... I mean..," Ariel hushed her horrified voice, "They won't want to know. I mean, my parents. They're too busy to have me getting sick,"
"You're already sick," Femme pointed out, "It's not a big deal to tell them, it's not like you're telling them you're pregnant,"
Femme almost immediately got distracted once she had finished speaking, by Reyn, no less, rushing down the corridor.
"Reyn, what's wrong?" Cori caught him by the arm, but then let go. Her concern got the better of her again.
"Whatever happens, Cori," He said, urgency in his quietened voice, "Whatever people tell you, I swear to you, I promise, I didn't do it," He took in a breath and took off down the hall again, leaving her confused and alone with her open, messy locker.
