LABYRINTH
noun [ C ]
UK /ˈlæb.ə.rɪnθ/ US /ˈlæb.ə.rɪnθ/
"CONFUSING PATH / SITUATION"
• • •
'a confusing sequence of connecting passages or paths in which it is easy to get lost.'
-
JUNE TENTH,
TWO THOUSAND AND SIX.
"Ah! Lyssa, baby - welcome!,"
A lean, cocksure boy greeted her smugly at the entrance of Saltburn - he watched her indefinitely as she shimmied past the congregations of people and the watchmen stationed at the doors.
"Farleigh, my pleasure." She nodded shortly back, a playful grin materialising on her features as she carefully placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.
"How we've missed you! It's been dreadfully quiet around here recently." He attempted to converse, however it earned himself a suspicious glance from the Sol girl.
"We? Venetia thinks I'm a cow," Lyssa brazenly replied, "And I haven't bothered conversing with Felix since first year."
Farleigh sighed defeatedly, he knew she was correct regarding Felix and Venetia and their relationships.
"Fine. By 'we' I mean myself - however I wouldn't be surprised if Elspeth serenades you if she sees you're here."
Farleigh had been the only Saltburn resident Lyssa had maintained a relationship with.
She wasn't entirely sure on why this was, her only explanation being that her and Felix met during the introduction week at Oxford last summer, and had naturally grown apart socially since.
"Well," She diverted the conversation that had too much of a lack in substance to continue,
"Where's the wine?"
He replied with a broad smile.
"Over here," Placing his arm over her feathered shoulders, he conducted themselves to one of the various drawing rooms on the ground floor.
The high-class furnished interior was vandalised heinously with hundreds of bottles scattered across every possible surface - it's profligate presentation tinted youthfully - sinisterly, with coloured strobes of light that shifted accordingly to the rhythm of the music.
Perfect by Mason damned the previously stale air of the mansion, so intensely Lyssa swore she was observing the structure vibrating as each beat polluted the air.
The usual hushed ambience of the uninhabited, unloved spaces was now overcome with bundles of Oxford students looking to have a good time.
Presence - watching eyes in every crevice, Lyssa compared the layout of the interior similarly to their Labyrinth in the garden.
Doorways, pillars, and many vomit-stained bespoke herringbone floors later, they reached the kitchen in use.
Although Lyssa already begun to feel lightheaded from the scent of the external secretion of hormones and lust that had become pungent in the air - it had begun to absorb into her skin, making it slightly damp to the touch.
"Fuck, it's hot in here!" Farleigh ran his hand across his forehead dismissively, reaching into one of the oak cupboards gingerly.
Once he'd acquired an unopened, un-spiked bottle of wine from God-knows where, he proposed it to Lyssa, who eagerly accepted.
"Let's go outside," He offered his hand, which, due to the high capacity of people that had made any window or door to the outside world concealed making direction hard to navigate, she thought would be best to take.
"- Let's see if we can rekindle you and Felix's friendship, hm?" His American accent fell thickly within his pronunciations, making every sentence he said a dash more amusing to Lyssa.
His voice competed with the immersive base that felt earthquake-inducing - Lyssa concluded it was due to the expensive, high definition speakers that were tanked in various corners of each room.
She didn't bother responding, yet affirmed his idea by continuing to grip his hand as she trailed closely behind him through the mass of people.
A human maze.
She had only agreed to Farleigh's idea because fresh air sounded delectable compared to the perspiring cesspool of body odour, weed and sex that oxidised indoors the further the party ventured into the night.
"Oh shit, that's nice." He muttered as the refreshing breeze baptised their bodies, turning to her once he'd found a spacious area within the acres of greenery surrounding the property where they could move freely.
"So, where's the Prince?," Enveloping her arms against her chest, letting out an exasperated yet relieved sigh as she felt her skin purifying back to normal as they stood aimlessly - bathing in the breeze.
Farleigh peered the visible lengths of the garden, shrugging - "I'm not sure, let's find him."
"He went in there with India a few minutes ago," Venetia interjected, flicking the buildup of ash off of her cigarette, earning a soft scowl in her direction from Lyssa when it landed on her shoe.
"- But don't complain to me in the morning when you stumble in on something you won't like." She further insinuated, snatching the unopened wine from Lyssa's grip before she could contest, fucking off indoors.
Farleigh patted Lyssa on the back sympathetically, witnessing Venetia's petty approaches towards the girl since Lyssa had starting becoming friendly with him.
"I think she's just protective, she doesn't want another Felix and Eddy situation." He attempted to justify.
Lyssa had been informed by Farleigh of what had occurred last summer, and as disturbing as the story was, she still felt that it didn't equate to her bitter behaviour towards a girl she'd never even met.
"I'm nothing like that guy, though." Lyssa peeled one of her feathers adhered onto her shoulder that was already losing it's battle to the breeze, showing it mercy as she let it tumble to the floor.
"I know, she's just.. strange." Lowering his voice wearily to speak the last segment, he embraced Lyssa's hand once again, leading her towards the Labyrinth - Venetias directions.
"Let's see what we're walking into." Farleigh smirked impishly, Lyssa hot on his tail as they ventured carelessly into the colossal Labyrinth of perfectly-maintained, rectangular walls of evergreen that stretched into the foreseeable distance.
"Fuck, I didn't even get to drink the wine." Lyssa complained, still agonisingly sober, "Got any fags?,"
"Obviously, Lyss, do you know who you're asking?," He scoffed offendedly, "But you won't like them - not classy enough for you."
It was my turn to act as if my ego had been lacerated, as I rolled my eyes.
"What do you mean 'not classy enough'?," I provoked with my tone, "I will take the compliment, though."
"Fine." He submitted to my request, burrowing his hands into his dress pockets and emerging with a beaten packet of cigarettes in his grasp.
He didn't bother looking as he handed them directly behind himself for the girl to take, he was too preoccupied with taking the right turn to avoid them getting lost for the remainder of the night inside the Labryrinth.
Lyssa obtained the packet, twisting it around three-sixty in her grip - squinting intensely - as the evening lighting made the writing challenging to read, and the Labyrinth wasn't lit at all either.
"Camel. Bubblegum filters." She whispered, her face contorting in judgement and in sheer disgust, "The fuck, Farleigh? Bubblegum?,"
"Told you!," He peered over his shoulder playfully as he had predicted the girl's unimpressed response.
"It will do." Lyssa sighed, removing one of the straights nimbly, "Thank you." She returned the packet, yet trying to maintain a stable footing on the uneven, grassy surface beneath her.
"My Pleasure." He jeered, "Magnificent costume, by the way - what are you? A volcano?,"
"I don't see how that relates to the theme.." He continued muttering mockingly so the girl would hear his deliberate ramble.
"You pillock! I'm a phoenix." She sped up her pace so she was centimetres from his back, using the close proximity she had created to shove him, almost catapulting him into the nearest wall of shrubbery.
"Hey!," He whined alarmingly, attempting to trip her over as she attempted to push him further into the Labyrinth walls, "I still don't see how your costume relates to the theme!,"
"You are digging yourself a deep, deep grave, Farleigh." Lyssa playfully warned, "What are you even dressed as?,"
"Well, I was Bottom the Donkey, however I think someone stole my Donkey mask when I put it down to get your wine from the kitchen."
"Oh!," Lyssa nodded understandingly, "So now, you just look ridiculous."
"You're utterly hilarious, Sol." His response was sewn with venom, jagged at the edges - although his tone was poised and had shifted significantly, they'd gotten too used to bickering with each-other to know how unserious their words were.
"I know." Having the last word was always one of Lyssa's favourite achievements communicatively.
Their boyish banter was interrupted by the faint sound of feminine moaning, and thanks to Venetias warning prior, Farleigh and Lyssa immediately knew who was responsible, and he was right around the corner.
What was - most probably - Felix had his head resting on the inside of her neck.
Lyssa could trace his moonlit features placing slathers of kisses upon the girl's jawline, his hand containing a fistful of the girl's hair, in which he was gently tugging her head back for enhanced access.
She hadn't dared to lower her gaze though, knowing that if she were to witness the source of the moaning, she'd be a changed woman.
For the worst.
"Bingo." Farleigh whispered, holding his hand out behind him for Lyssa to high-five gently, so they wouldn't be heard.
Lyssa remained restricting a chuckle or two, as she watched Farleigh bend down and pick up a small stone, tossing it in his hand, scheming.
"What are you doing?," Lyssa lowered herself into a crouch also, "Let him have his fun."
"His 'fun' happens almost every weekend. Let's spruce it up."
"Farleigh, what are you-," Lyssa began, her feet beginning to ache from restricting her heel from digging into the moistened, mossy ground - she didn't feel like picking off chunks of mud and grass from her YSL stilettos in the ride back home.
Before she could further interrogate, Farleigh threw the stone in their direction, the noise startling India, ceasing the moaning and potential voyeurism - finally.
"What the fuck was that?," India quickly backed away from Felix's body, that was leaning against a Minotaur stature in the centre of the maze.
"Nothing, India-," Felix scowled, propping himself up and beginning to follow timidly, their hands still interlaced.
"No, Felix! What the fuck!," She raised her voice, yanking down the hem of her up-ridden dress frantically, "Tell your fucked-up mates to piss off and go watch some porn! Fucking creeps!,"
She shouted into the passageways of the Labyrinth that lead into the centre, before exiting through one herself.
"Farleigh, I swear to fucking God." Felix didn't even bother to scope out the surrounding area before assuming it was he who was concealed out of sight, shrouded by the shadows of the Labyrinth.
"Sorry, brother." He emerged from around the corner, raising his hands in defence, "Her moans sound like nails on a chalkboard."
"Anyways, surprise!," Farleigh introduced, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, as she followed behind him, settling at his side in-front of Felix.
An unimpressed Felix remained perched against the podium of the statue, framed by a pair of Golden, feathered wings.
"Hey, Lyss." Felix's irritated gaze softened around the edges once Lyssa had come into view, "Long time no see."
"Absolutely." She sighed, "Great costume."
He hummed, taking a swig of a bottle of red wine that he had settled beside him.
"Fabulous! We're all friends now." Farleigh clasped his hands together, "Apologies for preventing you from getting laid."
He wasn't sorry.
"Anyone have a lighter with them?," She chirped up, having spent the last five minutes since she'd acquired the cigarette patiently waiting for an opportunity to ask, now utilising it as an attempt to waver the awkward atmosphere that had thickened.
"Yeah, I do." Felix nodded, retrieving a clipper from his front jean pocket, "I had no idea that you'd started smoking, Lyss."
"Why would you?," There was a brief pause thereafter, Lyssa realising that her response had come across somewhat passive aggressive, although it wasn't deliberate.
She adverted her gaze to the ground, where she'd started embedding the points of her heels into unconsciously, discreetly removing them from their self-made gouges in the ground once she'd realised.
"- I started recently, after my brother's suicide."
"Oh, my God." Felix muttered beneath his breath,
"Lyssa, it completely slipped-, I'm so terribly-,"
"It's alright, Felix." She met his eyes, offering a small, reassuring smile, "I'm alright."
"-And your mother? How is she holding up?,"
His brows now furrowed in concern, She adverted her gaze to the right of his body - noticing Farleigh had wandered off and was now talking to a smaller boy dressed in a pair of antlers and an embroidered suit, who had also wandered into the Labyrinth.
"She's well, as usual." She flatly responded, her now lit cigarette crackling as it infiltrated the balmy summer breeze.
"In all honesty, she was completely unfazed. Like she knew it was going to happen eventually, to one of us."
"That's just awful, Lyss." Lifting himself from the podium, he approached her, holding out the half-drank bottle of wine, "I'm sorry I wasn't present."
"It's not your fault, we drifted apart." She exhaled a wisp of greyed smoke, "It happens, Felix."
"I know, but I've been thinking about you - especially these last few weeks." He admitted ashamedly, "I should've reached out."
She hadn't any idea of what to respond, in which in this very moment silence had become her friend.
Eventually, she decided that she best continue the conversation, as her guide, Farleigh, along with the antler boy had vanished - leaving her to rely on Felix as her escort out.
"Well, here I am." She replied, her lips remaining parted as a half-smoked cigarette dwindled between them.
"Here you are." Felix sighed, tilting his head upwards towards the inky sky, his vision now scattered with stars, "I have missed you, Lyss. Greatly."
She watched his head tilted upwards to the sky, removing her cigarette, lips now pursed closed.
In the last year, Felix had made many physical developments, she observed.
He'd had his eyebrow pierced, grew out his hair, and although they had predominantly concluded growing, it felt as if he'd gotten taller and more muscular.
If Lyssa were to reciprocate that she missed him back, she would be a liar.
For as much as she had reminisced on their friendship, she hadn't ever remembered missing it.
She had accepted that friendships arrive and depart, and that if that person was meant to be in your life, they'd find their way back.
So, what's the point of mourning something that can still be revived?
"I like the Phoenix costume, by the way."