Soon, it was Mike's turn to spin, his bottle falling on Mr. Valen, and as it did a faint smile graced his lips.
"Truth or Dare, freak?" He asked, his voice grim.
In response, Mr. Valen gulped. "Truth," he said, his voice barely above a murmur.
At those words, Mike's grin widened, his eyes shaking with excitement. "Alright, freak. Since you 'don't remember' shit about your psycho mom, tell us this, what's the one thing you do remember from when she had you? Did you remember killing the victims with her?"
A hush fell over the group at this question, even the bass from the speakers seemed to dull in anticipation.
Mr. Valen's fingers twitched imperceptibly at such a direct question, but he truly remembered next to nothing.
'A normal person would mostly have their trauma triggered by such a question, I should act accordingly,' He exhaled, letting his shoulders slump slightly, his arm visibly trembling (the perfect picture of discomfort).
"I-I… remember the woods," he spoke, his voice cracking. "J-just… walking. That's it."
Mike scoffed immediately. "Bullshit. That's not an answer." As he spoke, he grabbed a dark, syrupy liquor bottle from the table and slammed it down in front of Mr. Valen. "Penalty drink."
Vincent tensed at the sight, his eyes narrowing as he defended. "Come on, man, he answered-"
"He didn't answer shit," Mike snapped, slamming his hand on the table. "Either he drinks, or he's out."
Mr. Valen, in the midst of all this, stared at the bottle. 'Alcohol. I have never had; why would one willingly ingest this? It dulls the senses, slows reaction time, and it does not taste all that good.'
But he still had to drink, lifting the bottle to his lips as he did.
The liquid burned in his throat, bitter and cloying, but he didn't flinch.
And when he lowered the bottle, he noticed the effects immediately: the edges of the room had already softened slightly, his gaze unsteady.
One thing to note was the fact that the auras around the others looked dimmer, seemingly less visible, less distinct.
"Wow, not even a break, you hold your liquor well, bro," Vincent praised earning a nod from him.
Mike, on the other hand, smirked. "Good, Next spin!" he yelled.
The night went on, and after a few spins, the bottle landed on Alice.
"Truth," she said before Derald could even ask, her light blue eyes fixed on a woman sitting at a distance. 'Who is that pretty lady?' she couldn't help but think to herself.
Sitting idly by herself in the distance was a woman wearing a baggy sweater, her blue-black hair shimmering faintly; it was unknown when she had arrived.
Meanwhile, Derald cleared his throat, attracting Alice's attention. "So, uh… what do you really think about Valen? Dude's been chasing you for months."
A few snickers erupted at those words while Mr. Valen let a faint blush spread through his face, but inside, he noted the shift in the room, the way the crowd leaned in, hungry for an answer.
There was a brief pause while Alice took a sip of her drink. "I don't think about him at all."
"Ouch," someone muttered.
She then tilted her head, looking straight at him. "He's just… there. Like a chair. Not interesting enough to hate."
The words should have stung. But Valen felt nothing but glee. "Get rejected by a pretty girl, check. I'm becoming a pro at normality.'
He may have thought this on the inside but outside, he looked devastated.
Mike and Derald seemed satisfied by this, as they spun again.
Round after round, the questions circled back to Mr. Valen, sometimes veiled, sometimes vicious.
Each time he deflected, he was forced to drink, each sip blurring the world a little more, the auras fading into smudges of nothingness, as he gaze became unsteady.
By the time the game dissolved into drunken chaos, Mr. Valen was the only one still seated at the table, his movements slow, his mind foggy.
He felt the nagging urge to vomit.
Vincent slumped into the chair beside him, rubbing his face. "Fuck, man. Mike's an asshole."
Mr. Valen nodded absently at those words, tracking the crowd.
The alcohol had muted the auras, but not the patterns: the way Derald hovered near Alice, the way Mike glared from across the room, the way Sophie stood close to Alice, it was all the same.
"You good?" Vincent asked, noticing how... out of it Mr. Valen seemed. But it was not all that different from his usual strange mannerisms.
Mr. Valen offered a light smile (the same practiced, harmless expression he always wore). "Yeah, I am just tired."
Pausing at those words, Vincent hesitated, then clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't let them get to you. Alice is… Alice. And Mike's just pissed at the world."
Mr. Valen's gaze drifted to the window, Outside, the night pulsed with unseen things.
He faintly remembered the stalker from earlier, and his curiosity was piqued, 'Maybe it was one of Hunter's agents?'
Taking a breath, he continued his conversation with Vincent. "Yeah.. Pissed at the world."
Meanwhile, in the distance, Alice and a small crowd could be seen talking to a lady who redefined the word beautiful.
At first glance, her hair was a sleek, inky black, but the moment she turned her head or the light caught it just right, the hidden depths revealed themselves: a bold, electric blue shimmering beneath.
Her eyes were arresting: a deep, unsettling crimson that pulsed with a faint, otherworldly glow. Around her neck rested a collar, its intricate blue and black patterns mirroring the duality of her hair, both striking and deliberate.
She wore a cropped sweater that clung just enough to hint at the smooth curve of her waist, the exposed skin adding an edge of effortless confidence.
Her long legs were draped in loose, flowing pants that swayed with every movement, the fabric somehow both relaxed and intentional.
Among the others in the room, she carried herself differently, more maturely.
"So you haven't told me where you're from, Amethyst," Mike spoke, his eyes latched onto Amethyst's form."
"I just saw the party let myself in, is that alright?" She asked, turning to Derald with a faint, bewitching smile.
Derald, in the face of such a question, found himself smiling broadly. "Of course, of course, I'm always upon to making new friends."
"Hmm," Amethyst nodded slowly, folding her legs as she sipped from her glass, slowly.
The men seemed to lose confidence in themselves in her presence; she seemed older and was just there to have a good time, so they excused themselves.
Most tried to flirt, especially Mike, but they were shut down with grace.
The ladies, on the other hand, had no ulterior motives.
"I love your hair!"
"What contact brand is that, I love the glow!"
"Where did you get your nails done?" asked Sophie, one of Amethyst's newfound fans.
"Ohh, my students, painted them for me," she chuckled.
"You're a teacher?" Sophie inquired further, earning a nod from Amethyst who turned to Alice with a smile. "You haven't spoken since. You're much different from your twin sister."
Alice was quiet for a bit, but she did approach with the intention to speak. "I like your style," she said, stretching forth an arm. "Let's be friends."
It was Amethyst turn to go quiet, but her surprise lasted only for a moment as she soon began giggling, her act causing Alice to blush slightly.
"Awwn," the group of girls exclaimed upon noting such a reaction from the ice queen, but just as the situation was about to get truly uncomfortable for Alice, Amethyst brought her into a tight hug. "Of course, BFF!"
Alice immediately regretted starting the conversation, but it was already done. "Thanks," she said weakly.
As they separated, Amethyst asked, her hand outstretched. "Can I have your phone?"
"Um, okay," Alice said, handing over the device into which she typed her number.
"You can call me at any time," Amethyst then said, returning the phone, but as Alice reached for it, she was grabbed by the wrist.
"Whoa," Alice yelped as Amethyst drew her closer, her breath hot against Alice's ear, her hands trailing her waist as she steered Alice away from the group of girls. "That guy, Valen as you called him, can you please introduce him to me?"
"W-what?" Alice stuttered, thoroughly confused as she asked. "Em, that guy, what do you find interesting about him, he's weird."
"Trust me, I know all about him, and he's the most interesting guy in the room," Amethyst argued. "Just help me out and I'll explain to you later, let it be your first favour as my BFF?"
"Okay, if that's whar you want," Alice spoke flatly.
Meanwhile, Sophie watched from a distance as her sister led Amethyst towards Mr. Valen, who sat idly with Vincent.
One of the girls a brown-haired lady, watched the spectacle and asked. "Is your sister a lesbian? I've never seen her like that."
"No she's not a lesbian," Sophie shot back, but thought to herself. 'At least I think she isn't.'
Raising her head, she noted that Alice and Amethyst had arrived at Mr. Valen's table, and upon noting this, her thoughts wandered. 'What are they up to?'