❛ —BLACK BIRD, FLY.

Nic moved in and out between the crowds of people. For the moment, he was simply trying to fade into the event in itself. Take the moment to enjoy something of it, anything really. Despite the fact, that his mind seemed to run a hundred miles per hour. He had work to be done, work that needed to be done. The problem was finding the right time to do it. After all, the park was crowded, and the subject in question hardly ever seemed to be alone. Not that that was really a problem, but nonetheless, he didn’t want anyone reporting that he had been the last one seen with subject A.

A familiar petite figure caught his attention, and within a swift motion, he was up beside her. It was clear that she was lost in her own thoughts. More so when she apologized. His eyes widen a bit as she spoke, brows raising. “The trade-in for feeling good for the night, I guess.” He mumbled, before the shrugging. A small pause came in between them, before he shook his head, “Hey, would you like to dance?”

Emily looked up and saw the familiar face, the same serious expression she had known. She bit down on her lip and raised her eyebrows. “Me? You...You, uh, want to dance with me? I...I don’t really know how to dance.” She softly admitted, honestly. “Are you sure? I mean, there are so many other beautiful girls...” She trailed off, but blushed. “I’d love to, though.” 

Gigi didn’t find herself standing next to the girl for any reason. It was just that it was a crowded event, and she was trying to avoid the most of the crowds. At her words, Gigi looked over, one hand smoothing over the front of her dress, the motion almost self-conscious. She shrugged, not entirely sure how to answer when she knew for a fact that her dress was probably more expensive than all of theirs. 

“It’s not sad,” she finally said, her eyes, framed by her mask, turning to the other girl. “Girls are allowed to like clothes. To like spending money on clothes. It doesn’t make them sad, or frivolous, or stupid. Guys too, actually, but that’s a different argument. It’s just…sometimes it’s nice to take care of yourself,” she added, shrugging her shoulders. She had always been a girly girl, spending money on make-up, wearing high heels, shopping for designer goods, and honestly had grown to hate the fact that most people looked at that and assumed it made her a stupid girl, or one who was too silly to be serious in anyway. Another misogynistic facet of society. “Just because you didn’t doesn’t make those people sad. Besides. You have on idea how much they spent on them. Could’ve been gifts, could’ve been found in a thrift store or just borrowed for the night.” 

Emily swallowed hard and immediately regretted every word she had said. She never wanted to upset anyone; it was just born out of jealousy she had. To be a free spirited girl, to have a boyfriend, to be normal, at least. It felt like she would be robbed of that forever, to be normal. It hurt her more than she could ever say, that she could never just be one of those girls who smiled effortlessly, who danced like that. She was always in fear, always afraid. Her therapist told her she would grow out of it, eventually, but Emily disagreed. After what happened to her, it’d always stain her. She’d always be tainted. 

“I--I’m sorry. I...I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I...I think the dresses are all so beautiful. If I c-could afford something like that, I would...It was just a jealous statement is all.” She admitted, her cheeks flushed, her head looking down, ashamed. “Those girls seem to have everything. Some people never will experience what it’s like to be so care-free in that moment, twirling with a boyfriend. Some people get robbed of that.” She felt a chill go down her spine, when she realized that when normal girls were turning sixteen, they were texting, going to malls with their friends, sleepovers, first kisses, boyfriends---and when Emily had turned sixteen, she was still trapped in that basement. No dates, no boyfriends, no sleepovers, no friends. 

Emily looked up again and tried to smile. “Your dress looks lovely.” 

If he was being totally honest, Douglas would rather be anywhere but here. He was hoping if he stayed away from the games then he wouldn’t be triggered, and wouldn’t end up causing a scene. But his parents had insisted that he went, something about it being good for the companies image if the heir to the company was there.

He hadn’t really been paying that much attention. He knew dancing wasn’t a good idea, he wasn’t even sure that he could. But he sighed, leaning against the wall for a moment, watching the people dancing. Part of him missed this life, missed having someone he’d been that close with. 

Hearing the girl speak he turned, trying to snap out of his thoughts. He had never really thought about it but then money had never been an issue. “You think they’ll only wear them once? They’re beautiful dresses, would be a waste if it was only one night”.

Emily looked over and shrugged. “I hope not. I just think what other time would they wear these glamour dresses? Maybe a wedding or something. They are beautiful, though. I think I’m just jealous. These girls probably went to some top designer and I got mine at a thrift shop.” She revealed, shrugging. “I’m more just...envious of their whole lives, I think. They seem so happy. Care-free. In love.” Emily watched as the young couple twirled, laughing, stealing kisses. 

She turned back to the man next to her. “Not everyone gets that, unfortunately.” 

“Awesome. I knew that you wouldn’t let me down, Em.” They grinned brightly and joined their hand with the girl’s as they headed toward the line. Once they were there, Olive toyed absentmindedly with Emily’s fingers, still smiling at her. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I can find some way to distract you from the fact that we’re going to be so many feet above the air.”

Emily smiled warmly at them and nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing. Besides, might as well face the fear. Although you know, after everything, I don’t fear much anymore.” She flashed a small smile at Olive as they waited in line. She saw a couple over by the game stands, the boy winning a stuffed animal for the girl. Emily smiled softly at that and shook her head. “God, that’s nice. First loves, first kisses. If only, right?” She turned to Olive, letting out a sigh. “I guess this whole night is hard for me, I don’t know. All these teenagers...It just reminds me of what I never had. While...kids my age were out doing this stuff, I was...trapped in hell, you know? Just seems...unfair.” She admitted. “Sorry, I’m blabbing so much about myself, Ol. It’s anxiety, I guess.” 

“I’ll try, okay? I’ll do my best not to win you by too far,” Victoria chuckled. “Uhmm.. I was thinking the one with the rings and the bottles?”

Emily smiled, giggling. “You remind me of my older brother. He is very competitive. I never was. Much more free spirit.” She smiled and tossed a few rings, missing a couple and landing a few. “See. I’m not great at this.” 

                        With masks hiding the identities of almost everyone, it fell down to instinct and hearing to determine who was who. In the corner of her eye, Sierra spotted another loner and headed towards her — It was strange being at such an event without Sebastian, uncomfortable even. That annoyed her, but she really didn’t have any business being there. On approach, the brunette lifted her long black gown and pulled the mask off, deciding that greeting people with it on was too strange for her liking. “Hmm?” The voice gave it away instantly and Sierra smiled, looking over at the group of girls. “Oh—” Looking down at her own dress, Sierra too wondered how much hers cost. “They’re pretty, right? I don’t know. I don’t usually buy anything over thirty bucks…” She chuckled and dropped the dress back onto the floor, “You look nice though. Everyone looks pretty cool tonight.”

Emily had to smile when she saw the tall, beautiful brunette in front of her. Sierra was so beautiful, like a real life model and that warmed Emily’s heart. “Well, you don’t need to buy anything over thirty bucks, Si. Put a trash bag on and you’d rock it.” She giggled, nodding. “Thank you. I got it from some vintage shop. I like it too. It’s just...for once, I would have liked to be one of those girls with designer dresses. It’s just...I don’t know. This whole event reminds me of what high school must have been like---what it could have been like. And now I’ll...never know.” She spoke, softly, pausing. “I’ll get over it though. Can’t stay in the past.” 

She was looking at the normal, pretty girls who were dancing with their boyfriends, not a care in the world. Emily was never going to be like that ; never going to HAVE that. 

She didn’t notice someone was standing next to her, until she snapped out of it. “Sorry. I was just doing the math in my head to see how much those girls’ dresses were and pondering the sad fact that they spent all that money on a dress they’ll wear one night.” 

     “Hm, looks like a bummer with that line, huh?” Liliana motioned to occupied line to the bar, a daring smile filling upon her lips while holding onto to her clutch while standing behind them. “I should’ve thought about sneaking in some into a flask. But, I was too chicken and knowing my luck, I feel like I would’ve gotten caught.” She acknowledged with a shrug, wandering dark hues around Westbrook Park. “Liking everything so far?”

Emily was a bit overwhelmed by the crowd, and the people. It was a lot for her to take in, but being with Liliana helped. She always calmed the little brunette, made her feel safe. Breaking out into a smile, Emily nodded. “Yeah, it’s great! I’ve never been to something like this before. It’s so beautiful.” She said, softly. “Sneaking in a flask? Oh, Lil. I mean, the thought would never even occur to me, honestly, but if you want, we can go chug fruit punch until we’re drunk on that.” Emily giggled, jokingly. 

“Come on! Are you afraid of losing against me or what? It’s just a game. I’ll pay for it and all, but… if I win, you owe me a drink. And not one of the free ones here but a real one out there. In the real world.”

“Okay, okay, fine. I just am not very good at these sort of things! You’ll have to go easy on me.” Emily giggled, looking over and taking a breath. “Which game do you want to play?” 

“Okay!” Olive clapped their hands together as they approached the person, not bothering to check if they were in the middle of something or if they even knew them. The exhilaration of the night paired with the few drinks they’d already had during and before arriving was getting too them too soon. “Here’s my plan. I really want a picture on top of the Ferris Wheel but the guy I came here with is nowhere to be found and I think this is the only moment the line is going to be short enough for me to wait. So, what do you say? We can wait together, take a picture, then we can —- we can do whatever you want after that or I can split and never speak to you again. It’s cool.” 

Emily smiled over at her good friend and nodded. “Of course, Olive. I’d love to take a photo with you on top of the ferris wheel! You might have to console me though, I’m a little scared of heights, but still. Let’s do it!” The little brunette exclaimed, excitedly, as she took her friend’s hand and went over in line. 

“Funny how my therapist told me to do the same thing for different reasons. He told me to practice so I could get used to gripping small objects. It’s a nice concept you’re working on though. What do you have up this week?”

Emily smiled up at Royce, a friend she knew from her oldest brother. “Really? Must be common practice then. I think it really helps. It just makes me forget things. It’s...beautiful.” She smiled, shrugging. “Thanks. Oh, just...the beginning of my trial is coming up. It’s just been exhausting on the family and...I’m just anxious, I suppose. How are you though, Royce?” 

“You are a true Picasso, Emily.” Olive beamed with dramatic enthusiasm, though not to make fun of the girl but quite the opposite, to attempt and hype her up. “If I had a couple thousand dollars to spend on a painting, it would definitely be this one.” 

Emily looked up and giggled. “Ollie, you’re too nice to me!” She exclaimed, going over and hugging her friend. “You’re so full of it! It’s so good to see you. You always make me smile.” The little brunette said, pulling away. “How are you?” 

Jade was always keen to see art. Though her preferred medium was a pen or pencil, she could always appreciate others with a right-sided brain. “It’s certainly…. something.” The blonde quirked her head, trying to see any sort of cohesiveness to the charcoal scribble. “Kind of dark though, don’t you think?”

Emily turned to smile softly, shrugging. “It is dark, but....He told me to paint whatever I feel, and right now, I am feeling kind of dark.” She admitted, sitting down. “Are you a fan of art? I think I’m a better fan than I am an actual artist. I’m no Picasso.” 

good and evil. tessa felt a chill run down her spine–ever since the death of her husband, she had felt her world grow cold and dim, the happiness sucked out of it. yet here was a woman in front of her who had been through so much more pain…and she seemed happy. she took the flyer from the girl’s hand and gave her a curt smile. “i, um. i actually really love cooking.” she admitted, though it had been ages since she last cooked a grand meal. in the past, she had hosted grand dinner parties for friends and clients, happy to entertain. now she wasn’t sure she’d be able to turn on her stove if she had to.

Emily smiled as she took the flyer, nodding. “I do too, but I’m not as great as my mom. She’s a music teacher by day, Julia Child by night. She cooks great food and a lot of is healthy.” She said, nodding. “Truthfully, she turned to cooking after...well, what happened to me. She said it always soothed her when she was having anxiety, so...It could help. I’ll be there too.” Emily smiled. “I’m sorry, did I get your name?” 

   “It looks interesting” he answered putting his hands in his pocket, “painting is really relaxing and helps. Also it helps one be creative, i don’t hate it honestly”

Emily looked up and smiled over at Alex. “Thanks, Alex. It is really relaxing and I figure I could use all the relaxation I can get. Listening to music helps too, but it’s better to...get out all of that anxious energy.” She admitted. “So you paint too sometimes?” 

Danny nods, a quick motion, “Mine keeps trying to get me to do something but I’m a stubborn ass who just wants to eat cheetos in my underwear,” Danny says, but he sighs, taking a spot. “Keep trying to tell her I have enough extra energy every day to barely make it to the gym so I don’t become a lard pot again.”

Emily couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Cheetos in your underwear? Wow, that’s...a way to live. Although I understand, because I love cheetos too.” She said, listening to his words. She felt bad that he didn’t have the energy to get to where he needed to go, but Emily felt the same way sometimes. When she first got back to her house, after she was rescued, she didn’t leave her room for a good month or two. She just slept on the ground, pillows and blankets surrounding her. She could relate to wanting to close yourself off. “A lard pot? What is that?” 

                       The blonde canted her head, watchful gaze narrowing in what SEEMED like careful inspection of the painting, when in truth, the girl had no palette for visual art, most likely due to growing up in a home where expensive, yet cheesy paintings of pagan earth gods and faeries hung on ever wall. In all honesty, she didn’t know— or care much for that matter —about what the fuck she was staring at, but more so that it seemed to be dark, and the dark place it probably came from. “There’s a lot of… black. Did you run out of coloured paint? Or was that, like… a stylistic choice, or something?”

Emily turned to see the blonde and smiled, softly. “Yeah, certainly a lot of black. My therapist told me to paint how I feel...and right now, there’s a lot of black in my emotions. I have colored paint right here. I just...didn’t feel compelled to use it. I’m not much of a painter, like I said, I just do it for fun, to relax myself, since nothing else seemed to work.” She admitted, sighing. “I’m...I’m Emily, by the way. Emily Pierce. Nice to meet you.” Maybe her name would clear things up as to why she was painting with so much black.