I Dream of Disney (Volume II)

Possession is Nine-Tenths of the Law [Bill Cipher x Reader] Part II

[Dedicated to those who voted for the previous chapters, but specifically Im_a_human06 and starbrightnight12 for commenting.]

Part II: Strobe Lights, Streamers and a Sentient Cloud of Booze

It started just like any other day for (Y/n). After a restless night of sleep, she woke with a stubborn crick in her neck and groaned tiredly as her phone alarm screeched Dolly Parton's "9 to 5" while she conscripted herself out of bed. Then she stumbled into the shower and shrieked at the too-cold water, spending the next agonising ten minutes in a miserable loop between water either too hot or too cold as she washed her hair. By the time she pulled on her clothes and blundered down the stairs, half an hour had disappeared and a cup of steaming coffee was awaiting her by the stove, a present from her father who always had to work early. Then she set to work magicking her breakfast together in time for the bus. 

Then came the bus ride. She spent the duration of the ride pretending she was in a movie by staring out of the window longingly and fiddling with the cord of her headphones, which she wore - although her phone was dead - just so that the other teens didn't gather up the moxie to try and start a conversation with her. The school day then progressed into the happenings of the non-happenings of typical teenaged drama and dragged at a zombie's pace without much of an interlude. Except maybe when that jerk tried to make off with a handful of her pencils. 

But now she was free. Now she was heading to a party.

The invitation had arrived a month ago. The envelope itself was bedazzled so heinously that it looked like an invite to the Met gala: the paper was marbled and crisp, the exterior bore her calligraphed name in gold ink and there had been a $50 Starbucks coupon tucked inside. (Y/n) remembered being mostly confused and had wondered if this was just an enormous prank set by the universe to embarrass her, but the name on the outside was no mistake: Rhiannon Mountbatten-Winsor, daughter of eccentric billionaire Richard "Rich" Mountbatten-Winsor, had invited (Y/n)  to her eighteenth birthday party. It had baffled (Y/n) for hours why the heiress would have wanted her there and then the answer came in the form of two simple words: Adryan Clyborne. The name of Rhiannon's boyfriend - and also the name of (Y/n)'s best friend. 

Rhiannon and her family lived in one of those state-of-the-art eco-homes and, as (Y/n)'s father's car coughed and wheezed up the long driveway, surrounded by rhododendrons and topiary masterpieces, she could see the mansion on the horizon like a glittering vision of Mount Olympus. The structure was colossal and impressive: supported by classical Greco-Roman columns, it was mostly made of floor-to-ceiling windows that glittered in the dwindling light like a celebrity's sunglasses as they stalked past legions of paparazzi. There was also clearly an Olympics-grade swimming pool and a fortified DJ booth in their yard, streaming with strobe lights and electro-swing music. 

Even her father, who worked as an archaeologist/historian for a prestigious university, seemed to be taken aback by the sight. 

"Wow," (Y/n) mumbled. 

"You sure you still want to go? It's not too late to head home," Her father persuaded, "We could get some Chinese food and crash on the couch, watch an episode or two of the Umbrella Academy -" 

"I see what you're trying to do here," She mused as she unbuckled her seatbelt, "I'm going to be fine, Dad. I promise." 

"We could even swing by your favourite bakery for some cake." 

(Y/n) glared at him, "Don't bribe me, temptress." 

As she swung open the car door, she could hear her father chortling to himself. Before she could leave, her father assured her for the umpteenth time that he was only one call away if she wanted to leave early. (Y/n) crawled over the seat and pecked his cheek and, also for the umpteenth time, told him that she would be just fine.