Spiteful Gossip

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For some reason, the preparations for the party last all day.

Alissa likes to go full out; decorating with streamers, garlands and balloons. She prepares games and challenges, rushing around like a toddler on sugar. Natalie and Mark prepare party food.

My services are required elsewhere. Gerard has deemed the party a good enough reason to finally change his look. The pure white, bleached ends and his natural roots come under attack. By the time we're finished, my palms are stained blue and so are his ears, but he's got a lovely navy tone. We get rid of the mop too, sheering it close to his skull but leaving it long on top. I'm proud of the end product, and he loves it.

"Now, I've got to help Frank." He says, as he whirls the towel we've been using off his shoulders.

"What does he need?" I ask, picking at my blue skin.

"He wants a haircut." Gerard shrugs, and stoops down to collect the fallen hair on the bathroom floor. He gives me a scathing once over. "And what effort are you making?"

"Pardon?" I blink.

Gerard sighs so heavily he doesn't even need to call me a moron to convince me I am one. "Nevaeh, my love, my beauty," he clasps his hands on my shoulders and looks at me with mock sympathy, "Just promise me you're going to shower, put some mascara on those impossibly long eyelashes, and wear a colour other than black."

I balk, indignant. "I shower all the time."

"You very rarely remove all the layers of blood." He purses his lips. There's amusement in his dark eyes. "Promise?"

I blow a raspberry, but I promise. He goes off to help Frank, so I do as I'm told and take a long soak in the shower. I might find blood under my fingernails, but that's not important.

Scrubbed down, I pick something new to wear. Nothing fancy, but prettier than my usual attire. I choose the ripped, blue skinny jeans that Gerard picked out, and a cute top. It's floral, baby pink, with puffy sleeves and a low neckline. It highlights the curve of my waist nicely, and flares out to flow around my hips. The jeans hug my thighs and my butt, which have grown full with muscle from all the running.

I wear mascara, and shape my eyebrows, and even go one further and let my hair dry naturally, without scraping it back into a ponytail. As I get ready, it dries in loose, dark waves well past my waist.

Old habits die hard; I can't not wear sensible footwear. Instead of my heavy boots, I opt for black converse instead. Smaller, less worn, but still practical.

By the time I leave my bedroom, the music is already thumping through the walls. I pause at the top of the stairs, sighing and wincing at the noise. The click of a door has me turning.

It's Natalie, stood in her doorway. She's wearing high-waist shorts and a chunky green jumper whose sleeves dangle heavy around her fingertips. She looks cute; she's even put on some lipstick.

"You look..." Her eyes sweep me from head to toe. Her eyebrows go up. "You look lovely."

"Thank you." I smile, "You too."

We arrive in the kitchen to find Alissa and Mark already engaged in beer-pong. Mark has made no effort; he's still in pyjamas, but he's certainly drinking like it's a party.

Gerard and Mikey are pouring drinks at a counter, and I join them. Mikey feeds Pandora - who will spend the evening slinking between peoples feet to hoover up dropped party food - bits of chicken, and he doesn't even flinch when her jaws snap.

When Gerard catches sight of me, he howls like a wolf. I grimace at him, but I'm pleasantly surprised when even Mikey looks taken aback.

"Shut up, you fool." I punch Gerard on the arm, and he cackles.

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