Instinct

Intermission - New Year's Eve

New Year’s Eve, Stephanie thought, was never what it was cracked up to be. For the past few years she’d spent it alone, either in a cell in the middle of the wilderness or in her car or on the streets. She’d watched the hands on a clock creep ever closer to midnight until they lined up perfectly. There hadn’t been a ball drop, no midnight kiss to sweep her off her feet, no champagne or laughter or New Year wishes. All she’d had was herself, and the hope that it would all change had been enough for her each year.

The hope had been enough.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Liam asked, not for the first time.

He was heartbreakingly handsome in his clean cut tuxedo, blue eyes dark with concern, dark blonde hair tousled. The truth was that Stephanie knew she wasn’t ready to leave the apartment. She wasn’t ready to go out and mingle with people in gorgeous gowns and rings that cost more than houses. She knew that she wouldn’t measure up or match up with all of that wealth and social expectation.

But she was even less ready to face another New Year’s Eve alone. Acclimating from total isolated silence to the bustle of the home had been hard, but coming back down from that to relying on one other person to ground her was even worse. Stephanie couldn’t be alone, not yet.

“I’ll be fine,” Stephanie answered.

She tried not to frown when Kim’s ‘chosen ones’ floated around, doing her hair or touching up her makeup, tutting at the awful job Rebecca had done at chopping most of her hair off or the hard lines of hunger and stress they had to cover up and make pretty with concealer. Instead, she focused on breathing and not talking herself in and out of going with Liam to this elite celebration.

At least, she thought, it wouldn’t be as crowded as other places for the evening.

After what seemed like an unnecessary eternity, Stephanie was dressed and groomed within an inch of her life. The girls seemed suitably happy with themselves for what they were not-so-quietly calling ‘the transformation’, and Stephanie was glad that they were. When she looked in the mirror, even she had to agree. With her hair curled into tame, loose waves the sharp angles of her face were softened. Concealer and minimalistic tones of makeup brought colour to her face, as well as erasing the dark circles under her eyes. The dress itself was thankfully not overstated, in colour or in decoration, and hid the remaining slimness of her body with a flared knee-length skirt and a lace neckline and sleeves to shield her prominent collarbones and shoulders.

Stephanie realized, with a start, that it was the most effort she had possibly ever made to dress up in her entire life, even if she hadn’t done it herself this time. When she stepped out of the room, in heels no less, to meet Liam in the foyer, she was as unsure of herself as ever.

But when he looked up and saw her, Stephanie could safely say that it was worth it for the look on his face.

“Cat got your tongue?” She taunted softly, uncertain of herself.

Liam laughed.

“You look beautiful.”

Stephanie tilted her head and rolled her eyes, smiling slightly under his attention.

“Stop gawking, L,” she said. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?”

“That we do,” he replied and extended his elbow for her to take.

She took the offered limb and couldn’t help but blush. It was insane. The evening hadn’t felt real so far – having people dote on her, speak to her like she was a person worth taking  an interest in – and now it had dissolved straight into the twilight zone, with her accompanying Liam, her best friend and somehow celebrity, to a New Year’s Eve event for the rich and famous.

Stephanie supposed anything could’ve happened, after all, she was wearing high heels.

***

It was exactly how Stephanie had imagined it to be. Women in extravagant dresses and men sporting the most expensive watches and suits. Hors d’oeuvres so tiny, colourful and complex that she wondered what the point even was – looking at it in awe of the chef’s talent, or eating it?

Liam did most of the talking, and Stephanie just tried to take it all in. The ornate lighting, the pristine classiness of the hall, the clamour of voices. People tried to approach her as well, and she did her best, but her best at this point was mostly taking part in one-sided conversations, nodding, smiling and sipping slowly at the champagne someone had passed her earlier. For the most part, it worked. Before she knew it, the noise in the hall was swelling and the seconds were ticking down, people calling them as they went.

Ten…

She looked over at Liam. He was grinning so widely she thought his face might break in two.

Nine…

The energy in the hall had ramped up until she could feel it like electricity sparing in the air.

Eight…

The champagne on her tongue tingled and melted in her veins, spreading warmth and a heady relaxation through her entire body.

Seven…

The Facility tags she stubbornly wore under the high lace neckline of her dress pressed cold against the skin of her collarbones.

Six…

She remembered many a New Year’s Eve passed with her family.

Five…

On her own.

Four…

In the Facility.

Three…

The hope that had burned fiercely for every new beginning flickered uncertainly, nearly down to the ashes.

Two…

She wondered what she could possibly have to hope for this time.

One…

Liam turned toward her. His face was soft with light, relaxed happiness. His head was tilted just a little, like it always did when he was contemplating something, and he put a hand on her waist and tilted her face up.

Happy New Year!

The kiss was feather-light and warm. A quick, gentle touch of the lips that burned through her and rekindled the pit of hope in her chest. It was over too soon.

“No more just trying survive, Steph,” he whispered. “It’s time to live.”

When Stephanie opened her eyes and saw the strength of conviction in his, she thought that maybe she could do that.

Maybe one day they could all have that.