mcrrorball

[mcrrorball]

*lying* why would i lie

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“Just because you’re beautiful, doesn’t mean you can treat people like they don’t matter.”

10 Things I Hate About You (1999) dir. Gil Junger

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susie peered at him, hearing the grin in his voice before she saw it. she liked making him smile - moreso out of selfishness than affinity - it felt like a success not many could claim. she sipped tentatively at her champagne and felt it bubble-pop down her throat, splash in the cavern of her empty stomach, and watched as his fingers drummed an arrhythmic song on the neck of his beer bottle. he didn't even look at olive. susana huffed - same, doll. she couldn't help but assume he was lying, though she assumed most people were lying about most things. the difference was, she got a kick out of calling his bluff.

"right. whatever you say, boss," she quipped jauntily. "you're walking around like there's a gun barrel pressed to your back. but i'm sure you only wanted to relish in the festivities and didn't feel obligated whatsoever." susie herself had come - because, well, it was impossible not to. she was a shower, and always had been. to hide her face, her success, to anyone at all was against her nature. "me, on the other hand. i just love a party. obviously."

She wasn't wrong about one thing — he much preferred the likes of dripping booze over his hands over hearing another word of how sorry someone was for his loss. "My hero," he exhaled smoothly. What he wanted more than anything else was to slip out a side door and back to the comfort of his bar. Unfortunately for him, leaving meant working his way through a crowd that seemed to be glued to him. He could feels lingering eyes in his direction, most of which were probably comparing him to his twin. How couldn't they? He was the only proof of what she could have looked like had she made it past twenty-three. "Sounds like bullshit," he hummed with a small wicked grin that played crookedly on one side of his mouth. He had no interest in fate, had no belief that it ever played into anyone's favor. How could anyone else possibly know what he wanted in life when he hadn't figured that out himself? Theo bit down at his bottom lip as his thumb drummed against the side of the bottle. It would take more than a few of those to ease the tension in his chest. "It's just a board." He couldn't even bring himself to look that way and instead, he glanced down at his boots before he tipped his head back and took a long drink from his bottle. "I'm here because it's my class reunion. You know, same as everyone else."

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susie never expected otherwise; as though their hearts beat, broke and stopped in sync, sloane's patience had worn to its thinnest at the exact moment susie's had. she took susie's arm and steered them deftly away, larger than life but invisible when they had to be, and out into the hallway. the gymnasium had grown stuffy, thick with sweat and all kinds of sticky nostalgia. the break in the noise, in density, already felt like a breath of fresh air. "jesus," susie exhaled. they found a darkened classroom to hide in. her gaze leapt from wall to wall with abandon, as though tearing down the place with her mind alone. she recognized it; one of her political science minor classes took place here. it'd barely changed. she laughed.

sloane dragged herself as though wounded in battle to the window, overlooking the winking courtyard, stirring with emptiness. "of course we did. only losers, failures and the dead don't show their faces at reunions," susie quipped, incapable of not alluding to olive when the opportunity arose. in fact, even when it didn't, she oftentimes found a way. but never directly - that was simply too gauche. she sauntered over to the teacher's desk and, in one fell swoop, cleared a space for herself by knocking most of its contents to the ground. she hopped up and gazed at the poster boards decorating the walls. "but, christ, it's exhausting. i had this one guy i barely even remember telling me he's read every single one of my new york times pieces. ever." her eyes bulged theatrically. "isn't that insane? he had to remind me of his name three times before i realized i just wasn't connecting the dots between past and present - losing all your hair can really change a face."

whoever thought bringing the class of '08 back for a reunion was a good idea had another thing coming. people you wished to no longer see sat perched on some high horse with their respective careers beaming off of them like they were some kind of god. the amount of narcissistic personalities that came to light after so many years was a complete understatement. her ears opened up listening to the people around her talking about their jobs, significant others, and children but sloane only had one of those that she could brag about; not that she would. she was never the one to boast about her achievements out loud, only to those that mattered most to her.

her attention was fleeting as she made her rounds through the crowd. a smile here, a quick hello there to appease the masses. she had only really been looking for one person in particular that had already gotten lost in the crowds when they arrived. a hand on her wrist caught her attention and she didn't even have to hear the words because she had already known who it was; susie. the one person that she honestly couldn't live without and thankfully they both had the same idea. "you don't have to ask me twice," she murmurs taking the lead and dragging them off into one of the empty classrooms. a slow breath escaped her lips, her body moving towards the window overlooking the courtyard. "did we really have to do this?"

[mcrrorball]

amma crellin if she got adopted by hannibal lecter

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#a look

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@sloanesong ; sloane

even a craft perfected can grow tiresome at times, and masquerading was only ever supposed to exist within the bubble of a single evening. if, say, she had abandoned all her falsities on the day she left angelwoods, perhaps putting the mask back on for one night only wouldn't be so exhausting. except, she'd never put it down. she wore it in her belt like artillery, and she never left her home unarmed. it only makes sense, then, to establish home bases. for safety. well, what if that home base was portable? what if susana could pick her home base up, pretty and petite as she was, and put her in her pocket for a rainy day? sloane song was her soulmate - though susie loathed the notion so dearly - and her presence nearly anywhere had become near essential for susie's sanity. she catches sloane's bobbing head in a passing flurry of bodies and demands the attention she so needs - sloane's wrist snatched up in her palm, she hissed into her ear. "let's take a walk, now." and when she turns back, there goes that glittering, undeniable smile again, like there's scarcely a thing troubling her in the world.

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there are clues, here and there. darling little suggestions that perhaps susana is not the doll she plays at being. didn't she stay with you after she came out of rehab? why would you be drinking with her now? the questions may hang in the air, and susie would smile sweet as cherry pie and swallow them whole. who am i to tell a grown woman what she can and can't do? i look after her, don't i? and here they both are, immovable forces; teetering dangerously, graciously on pin heels, twin wine glasses in tow, half-lidded eyes wicked and glinting and surveying in near-identical manners. two sides of the same rare coin.

susie laughed, tinkling, heavy gaze swinging recklessly from one wall to the next; the streamers were sad, the balloons weighed like stones, the banner home-drawn and all of it the same as it ever was. the girls were, too, if not a little more beautiful. wasn't that the irony of it? "can't polish a turd," she quipped, eyeing her friend. "well, i mean, i guess you can try..." fingers to her lips, she hissed quietly. "but, shh. don't be a bitch too loud." her eyes darted pointedly to the sad little poster board dedicated to olive myers in the corner. "you might wake the dead."

STARTER : OPEN.

LOCATION : REUNION.

LAST TIME SHE WAS HERE , dara strutted across the stage in five inch heels with pupils the size of tennis balls as she sweat out the breakfast of champions : vodka and coke. it was rare to find the girl sober those days , but the wine glass cradled between her manicured fingers raises no indication of any change since. true to old times, people flock to her side ( as if she's a fucking variation of fat buddha who gives good fortune to those who kiss at her feet ). leeches.

the years and the meds and all the brain cells lost to alcohol poisoning dull her memory but do little to dull her honesty — " god ! i almost wish i wasn't so busy these days. could have given the decor a much needed facelift before the reunion. "

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the parallels susana's mind was capable of drawing between theo and olive perhaps spoke more to her own unshakeable fixation than concrete evidence - they were often so nonsensical, so stripped of logic such that, should she ever try to parse them out in her mind, they fell to pieces. it was a feeling, more than anything. even when she hated olive, she loved her - some unnameable familiarity ever vibrating between them. two sparks in the same fire. it was the same with theo. the moment his foot fell in time with hers, and off they went together, branching off from the crowd on their own, she felt it rife and hard like a slap to the face. for all the ways they were different, they were the same. a small, knowing smirk curled on her lips, and she tipped her empty glass to him. "for what?" she mused happily. "i made your outfit better and i saved you from being eaten alive by leeches in concerned citizen hats. you're welcome." she had a feeling he would go wherever she might lead, and so a plan unfolded in her mind. as they walked, she steered him subtly toward the drinks table: that was stop number one. susana shrugged. "maybe both. i think our deepest wants and needs are designed to mirror one another's. duh." she rolled her eyes and handed him off a beer, then selected a glass of champagne for herself. "i know you probably came here out of obligation and all, but isn't this just, like, completely fucking insufferable for you?" she grimaces in solidarity, her glass tipping subtly to the pathetic poster board for olive. "i mean. jesus."

After finding solace in a conversation with Lyla, he'd worked up the courage to face the noise. A small group of barely familiar faces had cornered him into a conversation he would have much preferred going entirely without. He knew from the first breath of an apology where things were going. Half an hour in and it was his kindness that left him planted in his spot. How else was he supposed to explain his inability to shift away from a conversation that made his bone ache and skin crawl? We miss her so much, do you? Do the police have answers? Oh, Theodore. I bet it's hard being here, isn't it? Did you see her tribute? It doesn't hardly seem like enough. He wanted to beg them to stop, but a breath was lodged in his throat and the grip on his glass was forever tightening. Just when he'd mustered the courage to make a run for it, a push from behind was spoiling his plans. Jaw clenched tightly as a few quiet gasps sounded off. Not only had his drink sloshed to the ground beneath, but it had painted parts of him on the way down. Silence overcame him once more. She'd knocked into him and saved him from the hellish trio of curious classmates? The latter mattered more to him than the spilled drink. "No sorry?" He fell into step at the woman's side, unsure of what her plans were, but also not caring much. "Was it that obvious I wanted out, or did you just in that bad?"

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what a ridiculous concept, a simply ludicrous thing, to spend no more than a few hours back within these walls and find herself once again in the sturdy, unforgiving arms of parker watson. it was the most natural thing in the world. their stars not aligned but indeed parallel, shooting up, up, in their impossibly fast, impossibly stubborn trajectories. and every now and then, susie's star would dart out of line and crash into parker's, just for kicks. and here they were again. and there parker is, hesitant hands patting susie on the back, her breath in the shell of susie's ear. "oh, that is just like you," susie muttered back, her lip curling coyly. parker pried their bodies apart, and in the few moments she took to excuse the boring busybody, susana stared openly at her. she'd never been one to bother too much with shame, or restraint. tight, lively curls and endless eyes and high cheekbones, face as singular and as regal as a church in high summer. she'd always loved looking at parker. a small fire lit in susie she didn't doubt parker had the power to either fan or quash, depending on how sour she was left after all this time. her eyes rolled. susie's smirk spread to a cheshire grin. "please! i'm paid well for my stories. they're meaty and plentiful, thank you very much." she sighed, unwillingly peeling her gaze away. "the sad fact of the matter is: i simply don't have the holy patience i used to have. life is short, parker, i can't be enduring unendurable conversations when i could be throwing myself into the arms of a beautiful woman. you know?"

She'd gone almost two hours without any amount of bitterness coating her tongue and in mere seconds, that all changed. Parker cursed herself silently as eyes trailed down a figure she would have known anywhere. Not to mention, the overworked dramatics that filled the air all around. She'd been ready to turn and run when said voice was aimed directly at her, only for the woman's to crash into her next. She stood perfectly still for a few moments, the surprise knocking every rational thought from her mind, but she recovered quick enough and wrapped her arms loosely around the other where she offered a few awkward pats and a forced smile to the onlooker. "I'd rather watch the show," she muttered quietly before she pulled away and opted to play ball. Even if she desperately wanted to see the woman stumble, she couldn't resist a moment to catch up. "It's been so long. I'm sorry," she lied, the apology directed towards the friendly face who had finally taken the hint. Once their other classmate was out of earshot, Parker took a rather large step back and rolled her eyes. "What was that about? Not enough stories to hold the conversation down?"

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“Her laughter splashed me, the delirium passed, and everything sparkled”

— Yevgeny Zamyatin, We (trans. Natasha Randall)

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susie had run into most people from the graduating class of '08 in some unfortunate or explosive circumstance or another over the years, but this was a face she hadn't seen in fifteen of them. or, had she? she couldn't be sure, attention span as unreliable as it was. still, she was warmly received; the precise reason susie had known lyla would be the perfect target. had she ever seen her act sidewards, to anyone at all, ever? a magnificent smile stretched out susie's face, and she held lyla tightly by the shoulders. "oh, that's such a complicated question. allow me to tell you in a very meandering, roundabout, extremely time consuming manner, won't you?" she glittered falsely, playfulness spinning in her dark eyes. she passed a look over her shoulder to her former conversant. "i'll catch up with you later, okay?" she lied, before hooking her arm in lyla's and leading them away. susie released a theatric breath. "jesus - thank you. i don't like to speak ill of anyone, but that was a slog." she pulled her arm away, pointing merrily down at lyla's drink as though she hadn't already indulged a few too many of her own. "hey, what's that you're drinking?"

The night had just begun and Lyla was all ready to get out of here. Yet she was not going to get a whole day of travel to get here go to waste. She grabbed a drink and a snack before making her rounds to a couple of familiar faces. Her body was beyond exhausted at this point. She was running on little sleep and copious cups of coffee just to make it through the night. Her eyes scanned the gymnasium, a place she had spent so much time in high at. Watching various sports and prep rallies. A frown came to her face at the thought the last time she had stepped foot here was with Olive, before her passing. Lyla was lost in her own thoughts. She hadn't heard Susana come from behind her with a hug and a plea to be saved. " I wish I could. " Lyla spoke in a soft laugh, wanting to escape herself. " How the hell have you been? " Lyla questioned making small talk with her at least to try to distract Susana.

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@byathred ; aiden

in many ways, susana was grateful for the parts of her adolescent self she'd buried - olive included - but among that list, her former stamina for these sorts of things was notably absent. parties used to be her bread and butter, and bread and butter used to be things she could eat in abundance without sweating the carbs. only a couple hours in and she found the gossip drying up, the people less interesting, the streamers to be twinklingly depressing, and the champagne to have gone to her head. but, nevertheless, she couldn't be seen to wave the white flag so early into the evening. bon jovi played, she injected a swing into her step, and purveyed the offerings this sagging old gymnasium had for her. it offered her up this; a particularly juicy looking apple, hanging full and low from the tree in the center of this garden of eden. she laughed to herself - as if she could call it that. "aiden," she greeted on her approach, stealing his attention away, honey-throated. she smiled, dimple inviting him closer. "it's occurring to me, i barely have an idea what you're like out of uniform. much less at a party."

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@theodoremyers ; theo

there was an inherent cruelty to angelwoods; trees that never blossomed, naked branches like blackened bones crawling feebly skyward, ghosts on every street corner, blink and they're gone, and a haunt of whispers following every wrong footstep one might make. susana didn't often look squarely at her demons. rather, she preferred the peculiarly svelte shape they took in the corners of her vision, where she could pretend they were some illustrious stranger silently admiring her beauty from afar. but here? in the very building that reared her into horrifying adulthood, into the monstress she became? it was impossible to ignore them; they cloaked her like a shawl, fending off sharp chills and instead instilling them from the inside, out. and, yes, there was the inevitability of her. she didn't take center stage as she would've in life - susana imagines it bitterly now, how olive would've taken to the gymnasium stage and made some devastatingly profound speech about how far they've all come, would yell "cheers!" and the whole room would parrot it back to her like a loyal choir to their preacher - but instead, she'd only been afforded a poster-board propped up by an easel in the far corner of the darkened room. remembering olive myers. always our shining light. susie avoided its eye, and each time she accidentally caught it, she'd take a shot. her own little drinking game. yet, there he was; the living, breathing, antithesis to his late twin, theo myers. as susie had fallen into olive's gravitational pull, she found herself falling easily into his, too. perhaps it was a twin thing. perhaps susana was just a terrible person, and couldn't leave dead enough alone. as she contemplated ignoring him, the smiths crooned over those same, ancient speakers, as though directly to her; when you say it's gonna happen now, when exactly do you mean? see i've already waited too long, and all my hope is gone. susana frowned at the omniscient, sadistic deity that loomed over her, sending her all the wrong signs at the right times. she couldn't entirely blame otherworldly forces, though. didn't she always cave to herself in the end? she came up behind him and clipped his elbow, watching happily as his drink sloshed gracelessly onto his hand, his wrist, down at his feet. an angelic smile wreaked havoc on her face. "oh, oopsie." she cringed theatrically and shrugged. "guess we'll have to get you cleaned up," she glanced at whoever he'd been talking to and smiled, too sweet to be cruel-intentioned: right? "let's go!"

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starter ; open

susana loved to talk about herself. actually, correction, she loved to lie about herself. deceit came to her as honey to a bee in summertime, sticky and ripe on her tongue, sweet all the way to the root. she'd forgotten the name of the face she now gazed upon, false smile affixed to her wine-bruised mouth - an angelwood alumni she hadn't cared to lodge into that sinewy long-term memory wedge of her brain - who expressed ardently that they'd kept up with every last one of her new york times pieces. she had grown terribly bored, terribly quickly; someone who knew her well meant no wiggle room for untruths if she ever felt like a throwaway lie, just for fun. which she so frequently did, wouldn't you just know it? but, right over their shoulder as though descended from heaven, a glorious scapegoat attempted to skate her by. "oh, i'm so sorry, will you excuse me? i just have to-" histrionic as ever, she launched over their shoulder and into the arms of the savior. "i haven't seen you in so long - wow!" she exclaimed, but the moment she settled into their non-expectant embrace, she muttered discreetly into their ear. "save me from perishing of boredom, pretty please?"