The Elysium [ON HOLD]

~ f o u r t e e n ~

"You look beautiful," Tristan says, clearly staring at my low cut blue dress. These push-up things sure work magic.

Naomi had helped me pick it up from a 90s vintage store. She had also tied my hair up in a sexy bun in hopes of resembling the Audrey Hepburn look, but I think I ended up looking more like a comic book version of Mrs Doubtfire.

"Thanks," I say politely and take his hand.

He doesn't look too bad himself in his tight-fitting tux and gelled curls.

We walk down towards the Common Space. The space has been lit up with Christmas lights and glowing streamers. Fireworks are exploding in the night sky. A soft romantic music is playing in the background topped with the chimes of chandeliers and smell of perfume and wine. The Recruits are all clothed in elegant dresses and tuxes.

The dance floor is spread all around the Central Fountain. Couples have already paired off and are ebbing in each other's arms.

I spot Mark in the distance. He looks ... there's no other way to put it than gorgeous.

His tuxedo clings to him in all the right places, emphasising his strong muscled physique and the black coat just adds to the eloquence. His face is shaved and his dirty blond hair falls over his forehead in a perfect tuft. The lights are scintillating off his smoky blue eyes as he is talking to Jac with his signature smoulder.

I suddenly feel a spark of jealousy. I look away and try my best to shrug it off.

I spot Naomi and Brent dancing. Naomi sends me a quick grin.

This feels nice.

I mean, with all the war and training and taking-over-humanity crap going on, a dance break is definitely a stress-buster.

"Shall we?" Tristan holds his hand out. I smile and step on to the dance floor with him. He is the perfect gentleman – but the constricting politeness is really making me uncomfortable around him.

After forty five minutes of awkward swaying and small talk, he goes off to get a drink, but ends up flirting with the other girls anyway. As I walk out of the dance floor towards a quieter and emptier zone, I see Mark sitting sprawled on one of the wooden benches with his head leaning backwards, smoking. I make my way over and sit down beside him.

"Smoking kills," I clear my throat.

"I'm dead," Mark says, his gaze still fixed on the colours bursting in the sky.

I flick a finger and the cigarette flies out of his hand into the sparkling water of the fountain. I smile to myself. I'm getting better at this telekinesis thing.

He groans.

"You don't seem to be enjoying this dance very much," I say.

"Damn right I'm not. It reminds me of my parents' society parties where no one gave a crap about anything other than money. And this slow-ass music is annoying the hell out of me."

"Come on," I laugh, "It's not that bad."

I catch him stealing glances at me.

"You, uh... look pretty nice," he says after a while, not making eye contact.

"You too. Nice bow tie," I add, trying to ease the heat of the moment.

He smiles, "Shut up."

"Where's Jac?" I ask.

"Uh, her feet were hurting or something. She's taking a little break. I swear, stilettos are going to be the end of your kind. Where's noodlehead?"