Charlie sends Kane a pathetic look, and I realize there's no way he'll be joining me in the search for Paul. He doesn't look like he feels well, and I don't feel like dragging him along in this state.
"I'll go find him by myself," I say, but Kane grabs my hand. I jump, not having been expecting it.
"You can't go by yourself. Charlie, all you need to do is walk with her, please brother?" Kane pleads, but Charlie answers by hurling more of his champagne into the toilet bowl, leaving me with no other option. Either I go alone, or I'd be forced to go with the nations most wanted- and allegedly dead- criminal.
"There's more guys out there, I'll just look for one of them. I won't talk to strangers," I say, only partially joking around. I flatten my skirt out, then head towards the bathroom door, sneaking back into the hall, mingling my way into the crowd of people that has gathered near it, all of them admiring a painting on the wall. It looks like a vase of sunflowers, but I don't take time to stare at it for very long. I hurry along, watching for any signs of someone I know. So far, no one looks familiar, and I begin to worry that I didn't pay enough attention when we were all introduced to each other's UCP form.
I bump past people, mumbling apologies as I rush around, hoping to find Paul. I ear someone whistle as I walk by, and shake my head, all the more determined to fine someone I know. I see so many faces, but no one looks at all familiar. Suddenly, I feel someone grab my arm, and I nearly scream from surprise.
"What on earth are you doing by yourself?" The man says. Before long, I realize it's Paul, and I breath a quick sigh of relief. Suddenly I feel panic, and what-ifs begin to race through my head. What if Paul can't fix Kane's UCP? What if we get caught because of it? I look up at Paul, fumbling to remember his UCP name. But I soon realize he didn't give us his name, and I reach for his wrist, searching for a name on his forged ID bracelet. Aaron Abott.
"Aaron, our dear friend Preston could really use some help," I begin to hope my eyes convey what I'm really trying to say. Kane is in deep trouble. But then I begin to wonder how much I can express when Paul can't really see me.
He pulls me over to a secluded corner, near where the string ensemble is playing, and the music nearly drowns out our voices.
"Is he okay? What kind of trouble?" He asks, his voice just loud enough that I can hear him. I point to the skin behind my ear, and his eyes light up with recognition. A look of worry crosses his face, and he leans low, putting his lips right up next to my ear, his lips tickling my ear as he asks questions. "Did it malfunction? Is it glitching?"
I shake my head, standing on tip toes to relay all the information to Paul. He rubs his hand across his forehead, deep in thought. Then, he asks me to lead him to wherever Kane is. I pull Paul along through the hordes of people, nearly losing him twice before coming to stand back in front of the bathroom.
Paul stops suddenly, and grips my shoulder. I turn to face him, and I can almost literally see the gears turning in his head.
"He got it wet didn't he?" He asks, his eyes wide. I nod, pulling him into the bathroom. Kane is still there, hanging his head low in case someone else decides to come into the large bathroom.
"I'm really sorry," He says to Paul, pointing to his UCP. Paul walks forward, examining the UCP. I look to see Charlie sitting on top of a toilet seat, his head resting in his open palms. He sends me a weary smile, then goes back to looking glumly at the floor.
"You really should have known better," Paul says, his voice rising a little, and I begin to panic. If Paul is getting upset, that's not a good sign. He pulls the UCP off of Kane's skin, studying it, poking at the small device. Kane comes to stand next to me, and for a moment it's weird to see Kane instead of Preston. He looks tired and almost scared.
"Don't beat yourself up over it," I say, hoping I sound somewhat reassuring. "Anyone could've done that."
He nods, but I can tell his mind is in a million different places, and right here isn't one of those places. Not by a long shot. I put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to be helpful, but he jumps, and I pull my hand away.
"You're lucky Kane," Paul says, and I can see Kane physically perk up. "I brought a spare UCP for the express purpose of someone making a dumb mistake, but I didn't expect it to be you." Kane grimaces, but steps toward Paul, standing expectantly.
Paul reaches into his pocket, and his face registers alarm. He fumbles around his pocket some more, but soon his hand appears again, empty. I begin to move towards Paul as well, feeling my heart beat pick up suddenly. He can't find it, and I already know that even before he opens his mouth.
"Maybe I left it on my workbench," He says, swiping his hand across his temple.
"But there's a chance it's here somewhere?" Kane asks, and Paul nods. His face falls, and I can feel everything shifting slightly. We might get caught. I try to think fast, running through a number of ideas in my head. That's when it comes to me.
"What if one of us let Kane use our UCP?" I ask quietly, unsure if it's even an option.
"They know my men too well," Kane says. "They'd instantly recognize them and haul them away. It's not an option."
My thoughts begin to whir around again, and I realize what has to be done. Kane won't like it, and it is a plan with plenty of flaws, but it is a possibility. Maybe it can even get each and every one of us out of here without a hitch.
"They don't know me," I say, swallowing loudly. "I could give Kane my UCP."
"That's brilliant!" Paul says, smiling widely. He comes up to me, preparing to remove my UCP, but I hold up my hand. There's one other small detail that needs to be taken care of before I hand over my UCP.
"I need a new dress," I say, remembering that I was wearing normal everyday clothes underneath my UCP layer. There's no way I could possibly fit in wearing street clothes. Not only would that give me away, but it would also draw attention to anyone seen near me.
"First of all, I don't approve with this plan," Kane says harshly, but with a deep sigh he continues. "But it seems to be our best option. If you can find a way to get something to wear, I'll agree. The plan will go just as you have said."
I walk through the many crowds, still in my UCP form. So far I haven't seen my parents, and I hope it stays that way. For this plan to work, they have to be at home. I walk towards the front entrance, and walk quickly past the Government Agents standing guard.
I take a deep breath, savoring the fresh open air. I hadn't realized how warm and musky it had been in the mansion, and I suddenly feel slightly cold. I do as planned, though, and rush over to a bush. I find a clump of dirt and smudge it all over my dress. Amazingly enough, the dirt clings to the fabric as if it is a real dress, and I say a tiny thank you to Paul for his amazing idea to create such a wonderful little device.
I continue on, walking until I get to the block I need to be at. My block. I feel a small tug at my heart. Is there a chance, now knowing about my parent's distaste for the Government's ways, that maybe they stayed put. Maybe when the Government asked them to leave, they decided to stay. I feel the need to check out the house; see if my suspicions are correct. So I take cautious steps, heading towards the front door.
My eyes take in every detail of the house I used to call my own. Not much has changed, which only makes my hope grow. My hand hovers over the brass door handle, but I decide to press the small doorbell instead. I hear the small annoying buzz, even through the door, and grimace. No matter who answers the door, I can't back down now.
The door opens and a teenage boy answers. I gasp, hiding my surprise. Paul. He looks so different, but his eyes, nose, and lips are still the same. That's how I am able to recognize him, even after eleven or so years.
"Can I help you?" He asks, adjusting some reading glasses he has perched on his nose. I remember how perfect his vision always was when we were little, and I wonder how often he has to wear the glasses. I shake my head, reminding myself of my reason for being here.
"I met your parents at the Social Gathering," I say quietly. "I was going to come talk to them, but I fell on the way. Do you happen to know of someplace I could get a spare dress? Does your mother happen to have a dress I could use?"
"I don't know—" Paul says, his hip jutting to the side, holding the door open. "My parents are out for dinner. They always go out after Social Gatherings."
"I promise I will return it," I say somewhat desperate. I'm desperate to get a dress that I can wear so that I can finally leave the Social Gathering behind me. And I'm even more desperate to be out of my brother's presence.
"Well, I guess it'll be okay. My mom has plenty of dresses, missing one won't hurt her." He says, opening the door wide enough for me to get through. I walk into the foyer, nearly brought to tears when familiarity takes control. Nothing has changed since I left. Our family picture; the last one taken before I was Abandoned, is still hanging above our large fireplace. The furniture hasn't moved an inch since I left. The house even still smells faintly of lavender. My parents used to light a lavender candle in the kitchen, and the smell would waft out into all the other rooms on the lower level of our house. The foyer and living room are on the wall opposite the kitchen, so the smell is strong, but I don't mind.
"Thank you," I say, giving him a small smile.
"Um, if you don't mind, I think I'll bring one down to you," Paul says, retreating to the stairs. I understand his distrust. If a stranger came to me, asking for a dress or all things, I probably wouldn't think of it as a legitimate story either. Or it could just be that he doesn't want me in his—our parent's room.
I glance around the room again, taking in the décor. It really hasn't changed. Not the throw pillows, not the drapes or the curtains, not even the trinkets my mom kept on her bookshelves. I wonder if they kept everything the same because of me leaving. Did they miss me all the years I've been gone? Was I a constant thought, or was I hidden behind the thoughts of daily life?
"I brought a few for you to choose from," Paul says. He emerges with four or five dress slung over his shoulder. He sets them on the couch, and spreads them out so that I can look at each one. There are four in all, each one a different style and color. One is a white dress that almost looks like a wedding dress, and it's mermaid style; strapless, with a jewel belt around the waist. I glance at the others, and one really catches my attention.
"What kind of dress is this?" I ask, running my hand over the fabric, glancing at Paul.
He sighs, leaning closer to examine the dress.
"It's a quarter sleeve chiffon evening gown. And the color is auburn," He says, and I am surprised by his knowledge on dresses. He laughs, as if guessing at my thoughts. "When you don't have any sisters, you get roped into a lot of dress shopping. I feel like my mom has drilled every style, fabric, and color possible into my head."
I look closely at the dress, noticing that it too has a very intricate belt, made of pearls and jewels. It shimmers, and I run my fingers over it.
"Thank you for helping me; a complete stranger," I say, holding the dress up so I can look at it closer. It is an amazing dress; one of the most beautiful dresses I've ever seen.
"You think I can pull this look off?" I ask, holding the dress up next to Lady Paula's body.
"Absolutely," He says, chuckling slightly, and I realize just how much I have missed my little brother.
I look towards the door, and sigh, looking towards the ground. I take small steps in the direction of the door, my heart squeezing with each step. Even though there were many years I promised myself this was the last place I'd ever want to be, right here, right now, there's no place I'd rather be. I want to stay here, show myself to family. Most of all, I want to start over. But I know that can't happen. I was forced out, told to leave. There's no way to change any of it.
"I should head back to the Social Gathering," I say, sneaking a look at my brother again. "I promise I will find a way to bring these clothes back as soon as I can."
"Don't worry too much about it," He says, smiling. "It'll look better on you anyway."
I walk out the door, letting Paul close it behind me, and I feel tears slip down my cheeks. I've faced many challenges in my life, most of which were during my time on the streets, but none compared to the few minutes I spent in my brother's company. It wasn't so much because I couldn't show him who I really am. It wasn't even the fact that he's gotten older, and I realize just how many year we missed together. The worst part was looking right into his eyes, and not seeing the recognition there. To him I was just a girl who needed a dress. To him, I was a clumsy partygoer. I feel my head spin, but one thought becomes clear in the midst of it all.
The next time I see my brother, he will know exactly who I am. I will make sure of it.
A/N~ So what were your thoughts? I'm working hard on making my chapters longer :D I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please, if you did, comment your thoughts and vote <3 Your feedback is greatly appreciated- Sarah