⭒❃.✮:▹ sad song ⭒❃.✮:▹
In the crowd of students, Desdemona’s throat dried from the alcohol, and as she digested, the floor seemed to sway under her feet. She had never been drunk before. She’d been offered many times, but mom and dad said she shouldn’t, so she didn’t. Thalia said she shouldn’t, even though she was an alcoholic herself, so Mona didn’t. Thalia, thalia. She was all she could think about, all she should think about. But Thalia didn’t feel the same way. Thalia loved Renlin, Thalia neglected her. She hid her stalker pictures from Mona, thinking she was stupid, the way everyone else thought she was stupid. And maybe she was, but as time went on, she realized more and more what this was about. She realized that Thalia didn’t look out for her like mom and dad said she would, she didn’t look after Kiki.
Kiki.
Her castaway pet had died earlier in the day. The custodial workers had to sweep up her remains. They would probably have to throw out the books that fell on the little thing.
She would kill to go back, ask for another moment with her. But she was a coward, and the opportunity was gone.
All that was left of her was caution tape, sealing the space where the bookshelf fell. Lyra was so dumb, Desdemona was so dumb for trading places with her.
Lyra was meant for cryptomancy, and it was evident that she couldn’t craft illusions like Mona could. And Mona did it all to be closer to a girl who forgot she existed if she didn’t call first.
She supposed it wasn’t just her, it was Lyra wanting to be closer to her cousin too. They were both so feeble, offering to give up their talents, their potential for the people they loved. Maybe they should have been friends, holding hands and spinning in circles until the periphery blurred into nothing but sunshine.
Now, she could only look at Lyra and feel resentment.
She could cry again, but it wasn’t the time. She would cry when the ground stopped swaying, when it was quiet.
For the moment, she just took stumbling steps, looking for her friends that gave her the drinks. She wasn’t sure where they had gone, or where they had left her. The music was so loud, and since it was an umbra party, they had put up those lights that change color, turning her trek across the room, shoving between hard shoulders, into a sequence of scenes. Red, green, blue, purple.
She stumbled into someone’s chest, ruching the white fabric of his shirt with her scrunched hands. She was trying not to fall.
Desdémona pulled away, and then looked up at dark, angled features on a light-colored face. She knew this guy. He was in her group…
“Sorry.” She mumbled, and then met his eyes. He had a very soft stare, and dimples when he cracked a smile in surprise.
“I didn’t see you there,” she said, and then giggled when she couldn’t remember his name to finish the sentence. Her words were starting to slur, and her tone was lazy, but at least you couldn’t hear that she was sad. She didn’t want people to see that.
“Have you seen Connie, or Bradford?” She asked him, absentmindedly placing her palm on his chest, pressing down when she thought she might fall from the shoving behind her.
“Again, sorry. It’s so crowded here…” she scratched her arm. With that last push, she felt the hard rub of her denim costume on her skin, and the silicon pads on her breasts. Who had given her this costume again?
@Madilfill Renlin