Past -- Night's Arrival
“Come on Allison, it’s time to get ready” Lauretta expelled excitedly, bounding into the room and plucking her friend off the chair in which she was perched with her book. “I don’t want to go to a Victorian Themed dance” Allison groaned, looking up from her copy of the Zombie Survival Guide. Lauretta plucked the novel out of her hand, placing it down on the vanity set in front of her friend, pulling at her hair. “What the hell are you doing?” Allison snapped, retrieving her hair from Lauretta’s grasp and running her hand through it, fluffing it violently.
“Please can I do your hair? Please?” Lauretta whined, grasping her friend’s wrists in one hand and flattening her hair back out with the other. “Can I wear men’s clothing?” Allison asked, only half kidding. Lauretta gave her a look of disgust. “You’re kidding, right?” Allison just smirked. “If I’m wearing that wretched dress, then you’re no doing my hair. Now go away so I can change” Lauretta gave Allison one last longing look before leaving the room begrudgingly.
Allison stared at herself for a moment in the mirror before peeling herself off the armchair and walking towards the coat rack which held all the clothes that weren’t spewed across the floor in the piled from which she lived. The dress, of course, was not hard to find considering it was about five thousand layers thick, weighed as much as Allison’s dog and took up as much space as the coat rack itself. It was a pastely purple, not quite lavender; she would have preferred black, but that was something Lauretta would not stand for. She took the dress off the hanger carefully, still with know clue of it’s net worth.
The girl who was throwing the party, Demitra, was rich. She lived in a large house that looked like something out of Pride and Prejudice, she knew everyone and everyone knew her. She wasn’t famous as much as she was infamous. Demitra wanted a Victorian Era themed Halloween party. So Demitra got her Victorian Era themed party. To avoid people saying they could not find a costume, Demitra provided all of them. Boys, Girl. Of all colours and sizes. The more she liked you, the earlier you got to go through the collection of historical replicas that could not have been inexpensive.
Allison was not close to the girl at all, but Lauretta was. And since Lauretta was her best friend she was entitled to go with her. The girls were a few of the first to go through the warehouse sized room set a side for the Victorian Replicas. Demitra had to approve what you were taking before you left so for many people (of the attractive male variety) it was a long and tedious process. Rumor had it that Ryan James spend over three hours trying on different frockcoats, waistcoats and vests. But it was worth it, because if you could get with Demitra Evans, you could get any girl in the school. And that was what all the boys at Ridgewood High could ever dream to do. You got with Demitra, you pick any girl and you settle down.
And settling down was all there really was to do in Middleton. You could move to the city or you could stay in Middleton, move into your grandparents house with you significant other and have a family. And that was about it. People usually stayed with the first person they dated. It was one of those strange unwritten laws that you get in small towns. Weird small towns.
Allison wasn’t from Middleton, she was from Lynkson; the nearest city with a population slowly approaching a million people. She didn’t go to Ridgewood, and the only reason she had an “in” to the party she didn’t want to go to was because Lauretta insisted on her presence, using the fact that the guy Allison liked was going to be there as Matthew Jones’ friend. Allison was surprised she even passed Demitra’s standards. The rich girl simply tapped her perfectly manicured fingers on her pointy chin and stared at Allison for a brief second.“She’s pretty, I suppose” Demitra noted carefully, touching Allison’s red hair that was the colour of dried blood and slightly curly. Allison cringed upon contact. Demitra noted this and lifted Allison’s chin with two fingers. “You’ll have to get used to physical contact” she hissed before Allison took a step back, “now go find some thing to wear…” she dismissed the two girls with a wave of her hand.
Allison looked down at the corseted gown she was now wearing. Anything floor length wasn’t really to her taste. Then again, anything that wasn’t jeans and an oversized t-shirt wasn’t to her taste. she grimaced as she looked at her slightly above average sized bust, hips and waist. As though on cue, Lauretta pranced in in her light pink, flowy, less bustled skirt and fitted jacket. Allison had always had this jealousy towards Lauretta’s body type but she never really brought it up. It was a stupid sort of jealous that would only get in the way of their friendship. She looked stunning, but the truth was: Lauretta always looked stunning. her dark hair always fell around her porcelain face in just the right way. She hated how all the guys always thought she was so gorgeous and how Lauretta had seven to ten suitors at any given time. Lauretta didn’t even have curves.
“You look lovely” Allison chimed half heartedly, staring at Lauretta in the mirror. “You look awesome” the other girl responded, her hand stretched towards the girl’s hair. Allison glared at her disapprovingly, causing her to retract her hand as though it had been snapped at by a whip. She looked at Allison apologetically, as if to say sorry, I forgot about the hair rule… Allison offered a soft smile before dragging her petite friend towards the door of the apartment she lived in. Lauretta and she had lived on the same floor and had been neighbors until the messy divorce, now they only saw each other on special occasions and every other weekend; when she was at her dad’s house.
Allison pressed the ▼ key on the elevator like she had ever previous day of her life, only this time she was in an atrocious dress that could do with a few less layers. She had to admit, although the initial reaction was disapproval, the entire outfit was almost Steampunk: a fashion statement which she admired but never had the drive to partake in. Part of her wished she had a pair of circular aviation goggles to complete the look, make her a true steampunkette. She snickered to herself at the look on Demitra’s face where she to show up with a pair of goggles on her head, dreads with strands streaked purple. She gave a squeeze to Lauretta’s hand as the elevator pinged into the existence. She blew her parents a kiss down the hallway, something she doubted they knew she did. A kiss that said: I’ll love you, even if I never return.