//------------------------------// // Caramel's Party // Story: A High School Catastrophe // by Cyber Clash //------------------------------// “Alright. Class dismissed. Don’t forget you have a test on Monday,” said Mister Pi. The class sighed in relief and closed their math books. After a bit of evading the excited classmates, tripping over fallen books and jostling through groups of people who decided that no one is in too much of a rush to make it socially unacceptable to block the middle of the hallway, the group of friends made it out and were walking down the pavement to their homes. Lyra spoke first, “So, who’s going to Caramel’s party?” Neon, Octavia, Vinyl Scratch, Bon-Bon, and Frederic all stated that they would attend. Caramel’s parties were the best ways to let loose before exams. People never really talked about them, since they were pretty frequent, but many people went. “Sorry guys,” Harpo said, “Beauty and I were going out tonight.” Noteworthy nodded, “Yeah, and my mum needs me around the house on Friday night.” “Well, alright then,” Lyra smiled, “Neon, Vinyl, since you two are going to help out at the party, I’ll be driving everyone else.” “Thank you, Lyra,” the cellist said. When Octavia got home, she carried her cello carefully upstairs. As soon as she reached her door, her bag fell, but as long as Amour was fine, she didn’t care about her schoolbooks. The girl then heard a knock on her door, “Come in.” Her father came in, “Hello, sweetheart. I just wanted to ask about the party tonight. At what time is it?” “Seven. I won’t be home too terribly late.” “Alright, well, will there be any boys?” Octavia nodded, “Yes, but they wouldn’t try anything stupid.” Her father asked more questions, “Will there be any alcohol? Drugs?” “No.” “And there won’t be any exotic dancers, right?” She was quite shocked with that one, “Okay, Father, my school is not some wild den of sex-craving animals. I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going without any friends.” “Oh, well, who is going with you?” “Neon Lights, Bon-Bon, Vinyl Scratch, Lyra, and Frederic are going. Lyra should be picking me up to go there in a few hours,” Octavia said, going to her closet to choose what to wear. “Ah, Vinyl’s a good neighbour…” he mused, “Well, I’ll leave you be, but bring your cell with you. I’ll be calling every hour to check on you,” he said before leaving the room. Now that his little game of Twenty Questions is finished, why don’t I wear something nice? Hm…Maybe I should try red as an accent? Or should I stay with purple? The girl looked through her closet and found that she had hardly any sanguine clothing. Okay, then. Problem solved. I’ll retain my tradition of wearing purple. The elegant girl knew that high school parties weren’t exactly the fanciest of soirees. The cellist decided she would put on black skinny jeans with a grey blouse that had a purple design on it. She got out a pair of short boots and, of course, her pink bowtie that she always wore. The cellist went into her bathroom and turned on the cold water in the shower. She didn’t like the cold sting at first, but she found it to be more relaxing than hot water, except during winter, of course. She allowed herself to stay in for a luxurious half hour before stepping out and drying herself off. Octavia took ten minutes blow-drying her hair, and then put on the clothes she had chosen. The girl then went back into the bathroom to do her make-up. She figured that she would allow herself to put on more than just foundation for the party. Octavia put a bit of blush on her face and put on red strawberry-kiwi lip-gloss. Vinyl had said that she only wore flavoured things on her lip because they tasted good and that her favourite was strawberry-kiwi. The cellist agreed it did taste nice, but she wore it more for the DJ than for herself. Octavia never put anything around her eyes, though. She never tried mascara or eye shadow because she was afraid that it would bother her eyes. This wasn’t much of a problem though because she had naturally long eyelashes. Although she never believed it, Octavia was very beautiful, especially with her amethyst eyes. Only the most confident of boys, and sometimes girls, would ask her out. She would always say ‘no’ because she wanted no one else but Vinyl Scratch, but they always started their flirting with the comment, “You have beautiful eyes.” Finally, she put on just a pinch of perfume. The cellist grabbed her cell and texted Lyra. Octavia: Okay, so at what time are you going to be arriving? Lyra: Probably 6:30. im picking you up right after I get Bon-Bon Lyra: How long do you think itll take you to get ready Octavia: Oh, I’m ready. I’m waiting now. Lyra: WHAAAAT?!?! :O Already? I need to hurry up then Octavia: No, no. Take your time. I can get play my cello while I wait. Lyra: Okay, see you in a bit While Octavia was waiting, Vinyl and Neon were on their way to the party. The spiked-haired boy was behind the wheel, listening to his friend, “I mean, it’s not like it was the best song I’d ever heard, but I still think it deserved more publicity, you know?” “Yeah, but you gotta remember that when people overrate songs, they just kind of lose the vibe you fell in love with, you know?” “Yeah, I guess,” Vinyl crossed her arms and sat back in the passenger seat. Neon turned right and asked, “So, how’d it go with Octavia? Did you figure out what was wrong?” The girl grimaced and studied the folds on her white baggy trousers, “It went…okay, I guess. I never figured out what was wrong, though.” The shade-wearing boy nodded, “You sound hesitant. What exactly happened? I won’t tell nobody, you know.” “Well…she, um, kind of tried to beat me up. Nothing too bad, but she just kind of…snapped at me. That’s actually the main reason why I invited her to come. I didn’t want to see her so sad,” she admitted. “Aww,” Neon teased, “Wittle Vi is such a softie!” Vinyl rolled her eyes behind her shades as he laughed at her, “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, you fucking, chuckling chuckle-fuck.” “Alright, we’re here,” said the boy, digging behind his shades to wipe a tear. The driver parked the car and opened the trunk for his friend. Together, they took out the laptop and two bottles of Vodka. Neon locked the car and they knocked on the door. Seconds later, a boy with bright blue eyes and three horseshoe tattoos on his neck opened the door. He grinned in excitement when he saw his two guest, “Vinyl! Neon! Hi, come in.” “Hey, Caramel,” Vinyl greeted, “How’s Thunderlane treating ya?” “The sweet thing...” the brunette blushed, “he’s outside setting up the stage for you.” Neon cleared his throat, “Hey yo, Car, I gotcha some vodka,” he said, holding up the bottles. Caramel took them, “Oh thank you, we needed some. I forgot to get some while I was out.” “No problem,” the spiked-haired boy shrugged, “Vinyl, why don’t we go set everything up? The guests should be arriving soon.” In the interim, Octavia was opening the back door of Lyra’s car. She placed herself so that there would be an empty seat between her and Frederic. Bon-Bon sat in the passenger seat, telling Lyra the fastest route. The ride was quiet, save for the music on the radio, until Frederic asked, “So, is there a special occasion for the party?” “No,,” Bon-Bon answered, “He just likes to loosen up before exams, so he invites people to come over.” “Huh. I’ve never been to a party that didn’t have some sort of occasion.” Octavia mused aloud, “What’s it like?” “It’s not really that different,” the driver stated, “It’s pretty much the same thing except that it’s more casual and you don’t have to gather around a cake and sing to some kid you hardly even know, who’s awkwardly just looking around while everyone serenades him about the anniversary of the day he came out of a vagina.” “Did that explanation have anything to do with you’re second cousin’s friend’s son? You get weird when you remember random things you didn’t like. Turn left.” the curly-haired girl directed. Lyra did as she was told, “Possibly. That party kinda sucked. That Snips kid was pretty weird. Did you know that the majority of his presents were scissors? Scissors! I mean, what the hell?” “Wait, they gave a child scissors for his birthday?” Frederic asked in shock. “Uh-huh. Isn’t it crazy?” Both passengers in the back nodded. “Alright, keep going straight and we’ll get there,” Bon-Bon said. The lyrist did as she was told and found the house. She parked her car in the driveway and the group got out of the car. There was no music or loud talking to be heard, for the group was very early. Caramel had left the door open, so the four just walked in to be greeted by him inside, “Hey Lyra, Bon-Bon, Frederic, and…Octavia? Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here. You guys are a bit early, you know.” “Yeah, well,” Lyra moved forward to kiss the boy on the cheek and hug him briefly, “It’s hard to stay away from our favourite little fairy for so long.” “He-heh. Yeah, I’m pretty amazing.” he responded, as they broke apart. “Scratch, Neon, and Thunderlane are out in the back, by the way.” “Cool. Thanks, Car,” Bon-Bon said before leading the others outside. Out in the back, there was a small stage, just big enough to satisfy Vinyl. The DJ was bobbing her head in time with the music projecting from her headphones. Thunderlane tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the four guests. Vinyl immediately put down her headphones, jumped over her turntables and then ran up to hug the most refined girl of the group, “Hey, Octavia,” she greeted. The cellist hugged back awkwardly, “H-hi, Vinyl.” The wild girl pulled away and greeted everyone else, “Sup, guys?” Lyra and Frederic nodded in response, and Bon-Bon said, “Hey, Vinyl. Are you really going to DJ? I’ve never heard your music before. I bet it’s really good!” The shade-wearing girl giggled, “Yeah, well, you know. I try.” After the arrival of several guests, the party officially began. Vinyl Scratch, or DJ P0N-3, as she claimed her stage name to be, kept the music alive and the people dancing. Everyone was either dancing, talking, or drinking. Some people even managed to do all three at once. After a few more minutes, DJ PON-3 gave the limelight up to Neon Lights. She hopped off of the stage, sweating, panting, and desperate for a drink. She walked inside toward the snack bar where she saw Bon-Bon, Lyra, and Octavia talking together, “Hey,” she panted. “Vinyl, hey,” Bon-Bon smiled, “that show you put up was amazing!” The musician grinned in a cocky manner, “Gotta keep the crowd happy, know what I mean?” the confectioner nodded, “Hey, can one of you get me the vodka and a glass of punch? I really need something to drink.” Lyra set down her own drink on the table and poured punch into a glass, “This already has a bit of everything, though.” “I know. Give me the vodka.” The teal-haired girl shrugged and gave her the bottle. Vinyl mixed the liquids together, added a bit of soda, and grabbed a cherry from a bowl to go on top. She then took a swig and sighed, “Oh, thank Celestia. I was dying.” Octavia watched as the DJ swiped the perspiration off of her brow. Her tight clothes wrapped tightly around her, revealing the curves of her perfectly shaped body. The cellist asked, “How about you take a little rest, Vinyl? You deserve it.” The girl rubbed her eyes behind her glasses, “Nah. I was actually going to go dance. You wanna come?” she offered them all. “Vinyl, I actually need to talk to you,” Octavia tried again, in a softer voice. The sweating girl shrugged, “Okay, then. Let’s talk.” “We have to go somewhere quieter, though. Follow me?” The DJ nodded. The cellist led her friend to the coat closet. She turned on the lights, and as soon as she closed the door, the elegant girl realised how close she was to the DJ. I didn’t know she was taller than me. “What’s wrong?” Vinyl Scratch frowned, “What do you mean?” “I mean that you haven’t been your usual self since…yesterday,” Octavia shuddered. “Well, neither have you,” the disc jockey admitted, “You’ve been distant. Every time I ask you if you’re okay, you give me a strange look.” “That might be because you never ask me if I’m okay. At least, you never used to do that. Now, every five minutes, you want to know how my emotional stability is,” she hissed. “I’ve only been asking because I’m worried about you.” The cellist groaned, “See? There you go again! I’m fine, Vinyl Scratch. I just snapped at you. It isn’t like I tried to murder someone, and forced you to watch.” “I know you’re okay, but I just want to make sure, Octavia.” “Ah, and another thing,” the bowtie-wearing girl said, holding up a finger, “You don’t call me any of those ridiculous nicknames anymore.” “Wait, you actually miss those?” Vinyl asked, tilting her head in disbelief. “Well, um, I don’t know. It just feels weird when I don’t have the urge to strangle you for avoiding the use of my actual name,” she cleared her throat, “And it’s…kind of nice to know that you took the time to give me those petnames.” The DJ grinned and embraced her friend, “I didn’t know those meant so much to you…Octy.” The cellist felt awkward being hugged, “Okay, this is really touching and all, but I would prefer it if you didn’t embrace me when you smell like dirty gym clothes.” “Sorry,” she giggled pulling away slightly. She looked at Octavia’s face and breathed in the strong scent from her neck, “Are you wearing perfume?” Octavia blushed, the close proximity tempting her to kiss Vinyl, wrap her arms around the girl’s neck, dare to tell her the truth. “Maybe a little… Do you like it? The perfume, I mean.” The cellist could feel her friend’s arms still wrapped tightly around her. The DJ smiled and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a certain spike-haired musician, “Hey, you jerk-face! It’s your turn to—What the hell?” The shade-wearing girl perceived what Neon had just walked in on, “Oh hey, Lightsie. We were just about to fuck, you want in?” The simple question made Octavia gulp in nervousness. Her face turned completely sanguine, remembering what she had seen two nights ago. She squirmed under the DJ’s arms. The boy deadpanned at her, “You know, sometimes I don’t know whether you’re kidding or actually hoping to get laid with the people you joke around with.” The abashed girl finally managed to escape the blue-haired girl’s grasp, “N-Neon, I swear this was just banter. I had to talk to her, and-“ “It’s cool, Octavia,” the boy said, pulling them both out of the confined room, “though, I think I might have to give Vinyl a time-out.” “Hey, now, I'm no rapist either!” Vinyl Scratch argued. Neon Lights rolled his eyes, “Whatever, just get out there and play.” “Sure. Hey, Tavi, I want you to watch me play,” the DJ requested. The cellist, not having much else to do, followed her friend outside and watched her take the stage. The DJ pushed a few buttons and let the music flow. Instantly, there was a beat caressing the synths that played. Vinyl Scratch then added bass to the music. Gradually, the song began to evolve and wrap itself around the party. Octavia stood still, the bass shaking the ground on which she stood. The girl never really liked dancing, so she resorted to sitting down in a chair and listening to the beautiful sounds. The cellist watched as Vinyl touched everything in front of her. She felt the music get more aggressive, while she saw the blue-haired girl bending the melody to her will. The synths rose and rose and everyone on the dance floor was practically vibrating from excitement. The next thing that happened made Octavia jump a little; the speakers released some sort of distorted bass. The cellist grimaced at first, but as soon as she got used to it, the beautiful sound of machinery ceased. Vinyl grinned as she let the music flow again. She glanced at Octavia, added in the small bits of classical, and looked at her again. The raven-haired girl’s eyes went wide with amazement. The cellist couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The softness of the violins and the melody of the cello harmonised and filled her with warmth she thought she would never find in Vinyl’s music. Then she felt the drums come in. They weren’t as wild as before, and they matched Octavia’s heartbeat perfectly. The girl looked toward the stage. The DJ seemed even more attractive than ever. The cellist watched her brush her hair to the side, work with the switches and keys, and focused on how the stage lights illuminated her hair and her skin. After a few minutes, the song became upbeat again. Frederic sat down next to Octavia, “She’s good isn’t she?” he shouted into the cellist’s ear. “She really is! I’m amazed that she put the strings in there,” the cellist yelled back. “Here,” the pianist gave Octavia a drink, “It’s Scratch’s. She left it with Bon-Bon and Lyra. They asked us to go up there and give it to her.” The black-haired girl grabbed the cold glass. She looked at the DJ and noticed how thirsty she seemed as she licked her lips. The girl nodded, “Okay, Frederic. Come on.” The classical musicians went up to the DJ and up the stage. She noticed them and smiled, taking the glass. She took a quick sip, before handing it back and shouted near the cellist’s ear, “Could you finish that for me? I don’t want it to go to waste.” Octavia nodded and the duo headed inside. They could still hear the music, but shouting was unnecessary now. The pair walked toward Lyra, who was sitting on the staircase with a dumbfounded expression on her face. “Hello, my dear lyrist,” Frederic greeted. “Hey,” she murmured. “Are you alright?” the white-haired boy asked, “You seem like you’ve seen a ghost.” The mint and white haired girl closed her eyes and chuckled, “I haven’t seen any ghosts, but I think Princess Cadence just casted a spell on me.” Octavia furrowed her brow in confusion, “How could Cadence even cast a spell? She’s-“ “Octavia,” Frederic interjected, “She means that she’s in love.” The girl gasped in excitement and asked, “Someone tugged at Heartstring’s heartstrings?” the golden-eyed girl nodded, making the cellist squeal, “Who is it?” The lyrist shuddered and lifted her head a little, “You…promise not to judge me?” “Judge you?” Frederic asked, “Why would we do that?” “Because…It’s not someone you’d expect me to fall in love with, I guess.” “Oh, so he’s the dark type? I honestly never thought you would be into them,” Octavia stated. “N-no. She-it’s probably the alcohol talking anyway,” the lyrist stood up and attempted to walk away. “Whoa there,” the green-eyed boy said as he pulled her back in realisation of Lyra’s feelings, “We won’t say anything against you. It’s alright.” “Fine, but please, please, don’t tell anyone. You promise?” the lyrist’s eyes begged. “Of course,” Octavia said, oblivious to why Lyra was so serious. “I…I think I’m in love with Bon-Bon,” she said sheepishly. She looked around to make sure no one else had heard her. “Wait, so you’re…” the cellist trailed off, shocked that she wasn’t the only lesbian. Lyra nodded, “Oh, Octavia, please don’t hate me,” she almost whimpered. “I don’t hate you. I actually don’t like when people judge homosexuals like that. It's unfair, yeah?” The lyrist smiled, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m glad you see it that way. I don’t want you two telling anyone about anything though, you hear? I know Bonnie’s bi, but I doubt she’d go for someone like me.” The cellist smiled sympathetically. She knew what it was like to feel worthless compared to the one you loved. Though, Lyra had one advantage that she didn’t, “As long as she’s into girls, you have as much of a chance as anyone else. You’re lucky that you’ve fallen for someone who isn’t straight.” “Yeah…Yeah! You’re so right, Octavia! I can win her heart if I try. Of course, it’ll take a while since I’m still in the closet, but I can do it!” Lyra’s words spoke to the cellist’s heart in a moment of hope and ecstasy. She smiled until reality chained her up and pulled her down from the clouds. Wait, I still don’t know if she’s into girls. “Good luck Lyra,” Frederic smiled. The three friends heard the music change after a few minutes of chatting. They were a bit confused as to why the music suddenly became rock, but smiled as they saw an excited DJ coming up to them with three drinks held in her red magic. Octavia noticed the colour of the aura, but chose to keep quiet. “So, did you guys like it?” Vinyl Scratch asked as she levitated a drink to the lyrist and the pianist. Octavia grinned, “Vinyl, that was amazing! The strings united perfectly with your music.” “Thanks, Octy. That means a lot coming from you.” “How about a toast?” Frederic offered. He raised his glass and everyone followed suite, “To our beloved DJ.” Everyone clanged their classes and drank. Octavia slowly took a sip of Vinyl’s drink and swallowed with all the courage she could muster. It brought her bliss to feel the alcohol and juice stroke her throat as the liquid went down her throat. A pair of golden eyes looked at her curiously, “Hey, that was your first time drinking alcohol, huh?” The cellist nodded, and the blue-haired girl turned her head, “Wow, really? Did you like it?” “It…was pretty good. It actually feels nice,” she responded. “Makes sense. That’s one of my favourite drinks," the DJ said, holding up the same mix in her own glass. Octavia drank the rest of the liquid carefully. She wanted to savour the alcohol, feel it refresh her from the inside. However, when Vinyl Scratch offered to get more drinks, she refused, chastening herself from getting drunk. Although a very heavy inebriation was absolutely unacceptable for her, she did get a bit tipsy. By the end of the night, Bon-Bon, who only drank three sips of beer, was the sober driver who was able to take everyone home. She announced her arrival before climbing up to her room and collapsing on the bed with an amused smile on her face. I wonder if Vinyl wanted to kiss me. No, I doubt it. Although it was a nice moment, I bet she would have appreciated my wearing strawberry-kiwi lip-gloss. Wait, no. I should just be glad that I had that moment. The cellist stripped herself and washed her face thoroughly. She put on a nightgown and lied down on her bed. She grabbed her cell from her nightstand: Octavia: Hello Vinyl: Hey! U texted. Octavia: Why are you surprised? Vinyl: I figured u had died in the something or car Octavia: Actually, I did. I’m texting you right now with my spectre-like cell phone. Vinyl: REALLY!?!?!?! That sounds awesome Octavia: Yes, well, enough about my ghostly form. Octavia: Is the party still alive? Vinyl: Sort of. people are leaving. Vinyl: tight sleep. im going to ur home later Octavia: What? Why? Vinyl: I hide to from Neon’s giant butt Octavia: …What? Vinyl: His butt is so huge. it’s like he wants to sit on me Octavia: Are you drunk? Really drunk? Vinyl: lol gotta go. hes after me. i wuv u Octavia: You what? The cellist waited for a response; minutes passed by like centuries. She finally put her cell down and looked up at the ceiling. I know she was drunk, but…what if she means it?