#normal:event3

Scanning the room once she’d successfully countered the male to a decent vantage point, Vi took note of everyone nearby. Susan from the cheer team, Chris from her chemistry class sophomore year, that one senior whose name she could never remember who always looked at her for a second too long, Jamie…

Jamie who was, for the moment, sans Edwina. Making it the perfect time for her to draw him into a much needed discussion.

She had more or less been avoiding him since their shared night in the woods, but her need to tell him about what she had discovered at Alberione far outweighed the fact that she wanted infinite time and space to figure out why she had unconsciously allowed herself to snuggle up with the number one agent of chaos in her life.

Since Edwina was still nowhere to be found after probably a little bit too long of an observation period, Vi decided not to hesitate any longer. A plan came to mind as soon as the first chords of a song she knew was slow came blasting through the rented speakers, and she was determined to put it into motion.

“May I have this dance?” she asked, approaching Jamie with her formal offer with all the false confidence she could muster. It wasn’t going to be weird unless either of them made it weird, right? “And before you say no, you probably shouldn’t say no.”

@devilsward​

Mariana had secretly lusted over him since her freshman year, and when she was gifted this incredibly body, she made sure to put in some groundwork so he’d notice her. Looking at him long enough in the halls that’d he catch her eye, but ignoring any real interaction he attempted to start for the attention of one of his team mates. Make him want her, and crave her while she denied it. It got her a prom date... and maybe more.

Looking at his watch, she noted they wouldn’t be crowning Prom King and Queen for at least an hour. It was plenty of time to have some fun. “Are you as well endowed in other areas?” She questioned, hazel orbs flicking towards his crotch as if to drive home what she was implying. His brows shot up and she could tell he probably wasn’t expecting something so bold, not this early in the night. Especially not without any alcohol in her system. But she was an impatient girl. 

“Let’s go find someplace more private and we’ll find out.” Taking his hand in her own, the girl began to guide them out of the ballroom. For a second she caught a familiar gaze across the room, Jamie Ward, and she wondered why he was even paying attention to her in this moment. Probably judging her, but she was too close to cloud nine to allow herself to think deeper on the subject. She pushed any thoughts of him and newspaper club out of her mind as she pulled her conquest out of the ballroom with her.

It took thirty seconds top to find the men’s bathroom, and Mariana pushed the door open with a force that was unnatural. Her boy toy was too entranced with her and the deep kiss she planted on his lips to notice though. It took seconds but suddenly he was wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up on the counter. The kisses slopping and his body pressing into hers just how she liked it. Oh, this was going to be a magical night.

@devilsward

EVENT 3 // PROM NIGHT

It’s the long-awaited event to cap off an eventful school year of mysteries and murders: prom night. The atmosphere is alive with celebration despite the scant numbers of juniors on the dance floor that year, all glad to be one of the ones who made it. The theme of the ball is the all-American sock hop and for the sake of authenticity (and cost effectiveness), this year’s prom will be held in the school’s gymnasium. You don’t hate it. In fact, it had a dated appeal to it like Marie’s, the candy colours and tinsel photo wall throwing back all the chaperones to their youth.

The decor is 50s with balloon arcs and neon jukeboxes, the floor freshly varnished for shoes and socks alike. The number of Socs certainly outnumber the Greasers at Normal Secondary but you can see a smattering of leather jackets lingering in the corners of the gym like dark smudges just waiting to pounce on a poodle. 

Everyone’s doing the boogie woogie and getting wasted on love potion no. 9 that night and you can’t help but join the festivities. Your classmates all look kinda goofy in their grandparents’ hand-me downs but what was more important than fashion that evening was the fact that you were still alive enough to look stupid. 

You’re swinging and you’re dancing and you’re having a good time and for the first time all year, you feel like a real teenager. Sure, you miss your dead friends but you’re grateful for the ones you have and make a point of letting them know just how much.

Nothing seems to be amiss. You plan on enjoying that for however long it lasts.

OOC //

People were staring at her, whispering. Not that it was a strange development at all in terms of her normal life. Whispering was something Holly was used to, even in conjunction with Norman, but that didn’t make it any less awkward. Her face was nearly the same color as her hair as she pulled Violet away.

“I need you to give me three good reasons as to why I won’t slap the shit out of him in front of God and everyone.”

She was beyond mortified at the moment and wanted to sink into the ground to disappear. Prom was a bad idea. Prom was an absolutely terrible no good horrible idea. “Also, you might want to figure out how to explain to your dad why people might think that the mayor’s son, the sheriff’s daughter, and the witch’s abomination are in an ungodly throuple. He actually fucking followed through with it. He actually fucking sang to me just to win your affections. The sheer stupidity and commitment that takes is baffling. I want to be impressed. I would be impressed if my first instinct wasn’t the grab the punch bowl and beat him to death with it. But I’m not sure we can really afford another murder around here.”

She looked positively miserable and she wasn’t even trying to hide it that well. Kaz felt guilty. He wasn’t wholly responsible for the mismatched lovers, but he’d certainly had a hand in it. The least he could do was find a way to give Violet a moment’s reprieve. 

He waited for the perfect opportunity, when they’d separated off from the rest of the MC to get some punch. He swooped in then, settling a hand gently around Violet’s waist.

“Violet, there’s an emergency,” he told her, feigning a gravity he rarely had. “It’s Grandma. She... fell. In front of a Buick. The doctors say she might lose her legs.” 

Kaz was not a good liar. Norman looked between the two of them, as if attempting to decide how it was possible that they shared a grandmother.

“She’s a competitive cross-country skiier. It’s very serious. Give us a moment,” he told Norman, building on the lie in the hopes that made it sound more believable. He let Norman ruminate on that as he whisked Violet away.

Edwina could only assume it was some sort of inner demon holding Violet’s yearnings for Norman captive. How could anyway watch The Kissing Booth and not want a passionate kissing session with someone 3x your height in a gazebo while it rained? On a mission to be nosey as fuck, Edwina approached Violet when she was alone.

“So. . . How was Alberione prom?” she started casually. Edwina waited a few seconds to soak in silence before jumping straight into things. “So this whole Norman thing. . .” she trailed off, eyes panning towards the charming mayor’s son shaking the hands of those who were applauding his performance. The guy really did seem to have it all (well, all except for Violet’s genuine adoration and perhaps the knowledge of what it feels like to be inside a woman). 

“You said you don’t really like relationships. . . Have you had one before?” 

// @violet-matthews

All of Norman’s friends had turned out to be clones of each other, all wearing perfectly tailored suits and not having an ounce of personality but seemingly each with the dream of working in finance, business, or politics. Cecil, Howard, Nigel, Clifford, and now Ernest, whose girlfriend Faustina had momentarily excused herself to powder her nose.

What decade were they in again?

It was a prom. Wasn’t there supposed to be... dancing? Or did everyone at Alberione merely do a turn about the room to orchestral music for four hours? Had she tried to teach herself the basics of ballroom for nothing?

Nodding along to pretend like she was keenly interested in Ernest’s current tangent about the epic highs and lows of rowing crew at an elite boarding school, Violet realized only after Faustina had been MIA for a solid five minutes that she had discovered the perfect excuse to go digging around for Room 612.

She’d done the meet the friends thing for enough time that Norman seemed content enough, so with a small squeeze to the male’s shoulder (which finally cued him to move the hand that had unfortunately decided to rest against her back), Violet too was giving the ‘freshen up’ excuse, an apology falling from her lips for not being able to hear about Ernest’s rowing-based business pitch before she was off.

Past where she vaguely had been told the restrooms were, past the libraries, past a bunch of classrooms that had no business being as nice as they were, past an... indoor fountain? The more she walked, the more she began to realize that the school was truly a marble-floored maze, and she only had a short amount of time left before Norman was likely to grow concerned and actually send out a search party for her.

If she were an expensive school that housed America’s dullest possible future, where would she position a dorm?

PLOT DROP 11 // ACAFELLAS

The prom was going swimmingly. The floor was bumping alive with dancers and music after everyone got a good taste of the punch bowl and nothing seemed to be out of order until the auditorium lights shuddered, flickering before going black.

With the gym shrouded in darkness, the party broke out into a series of whispers until a spotlight flicked on, highlighting the one and only Norman Normal front stage and center. He was dressed in elaborate Alexander McQueen, far too wealthy for Normal Secondary’s prom, but he looked unabashed in his wealth like he was making a grand appearance. The haunting hum of a choir filled the room and announced his arrival like royal fanfare. You’re extremely confused.

“What the hell is going on?” you hear one of your classmates whisper.

“Fuck should I know,” you reply. You watch in slow-dawning horror as Norman began to descend the stage, belting a jazzy acapella cover of some pop song. 

He’s not horrible, which is the worst part, and as you watch him spin around the dance floor, you realize that the gymnasium had been overtaken by clones of Norman in tuxes like musical penguins doo-wopping a storm in a circle around one fiery red-head. 

“Well my body’s been a mess and I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress. Won’t you come on over. Stop making a fool out of me. Why don’t you come over, Holly?” 

The room starts hollering at the display, all enraptured by the musical prowess of the neighbouring school. For all the flack the Alberione boys got for being a bunch of lifeless robots, they sure are putting on quite a show. Norman, for the first time in his life, looks like a viable candidate for dating as he’s leading the flash mob around the floor with artful choreography as the lights flash colours you didn’t realize the school had. 

Then, the PA screeches and you stare at the speakers, bewildered. The tinny ding-ding-ding of the announcement chimes and everyone stops for a moment to listen to what they assume must be Principal Graves telling them to cut out the fun. Instead what you hear is the soft strumming of a guitar.

“What the hell is going on?” your classmate says, hysterical. You can’t tell whether she’s excited or horrified at how quickly your prom night had devolved (evolved?) into a musical interlude straight out of a teen movie. The dulcet sound of a boy’s voice comes in loud through the speakers, this time a cover of Cyndi Lauper’s True Colors. 

You’re really confused now because both songs were of the wrong era but the boy on the speakers sounds heartfelt and earnest in his singing, even if he wasn’t nearly as energetic as Norman. It’s only when the chorus hits that you pick up the sound of a second boy but you couldn’t be sure. That was odd that Normal had two boys with identical voices already but two serenading their prom dates at once? The auditorium was too busy coming alive with speculation on who it might’ve been to give another thought to conspiracy and you decide that maybe it was best to leave it be.

As the voices reach a crescendo, you admit that you’re really moved by the performance, even if it was a fraction of the glitz of the Alberione boys. It was heartfelt and sincere with no need for glamour and you’re a little jealous of whose date they are. You look at Norman and he seems perturbed by the interruption, conflict written into his features as he stole nervous glances at the target of his song and her best friend. 

The singing comes to a halt as the PA screeches again. You hear Principal Graves’ voice roaring, “WARD!” before the sound cuts out.

Your friends are giddy with excitement as they flock to you with all the gossip that had accrued in the last ten minutes and you do your best to pay attention as you watch the crowd peter out of the side doors to air out all the vapors.

OOC //