"Who told you so?/'Twas was my heart" - Stroke of Midnight / Thank You Fairy Godmother, Cinderella
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CINDY'S BOOBS ARE LITERALLY SPILLING OUT OF HER PALE BLUE DRESS. Despite this, she has to admit she's looking good, if she does say so herself. She's about to turn away from the mirror and leave (at last) when she notices that somehow in the last 2 seconds since she's checked them, one of her boobs has managed to fall out. Again. She hastily shoves it back in, cursing. "Now I get why celebs are such fans of double-sided tape," she mutters. Cindy vaguely recalls her friend Bella mentioning it a few hours before.
She shouts Bella's name, and the olive-skinned girl pops her head in a minute later, only to stare blatantly at Cindy's hair. "What the actual fu-frick frack?" (Bella is currently on a no-swearing lifestyle.)
"I meant," Cindy grumbles, "To dye my ginger hair mahogany or something. But one certain ice-queen put her hair dye right next to mine. Which is how this," she gestures to her honey-blonde mess of a bun, "happened."
Just at precisely that moment, Left Boob decides to show its little hat once again. Cindy looks down, annoyed. "Just stay in!" she yells at her chest. Bella stands near the doorway, hovering awkwardly. "Should I, um -"
"No!" Cindy yelps, a little louder than she intended to. She softens her voice. "I was wondering - do you have any double-sided tape? For this?" She gestures at her bust.
Bella snaps to attention, the professional beautician in her coming out."In fact, I do," she says, fumbling with her purse. She hands Cindy the small roll of tape.
As soon as Cindy's done taping her boobs to the inside of her dress, Bella orders her to spin around. "Wow," the brunette says approvingly. "Your milkshake will bring all the boys and girls to the yard. Just hopefully not any siblings," she adds hastily. "You wouldn't want to break the Great Rule."
Cindy nods, wincing as her bun droops down another two inches. The Great Rule, invented by the Disney Squad (as Cindy's group of friends were called), proclaimed that no members of the Squad could ever become romantically involved with any of their friends' siblings. (Cindy vaguely recalls flipping through the dictionary, attempting to find as many big words as possible to make the contract sound authentic.)
It's then that she notices Bella's surprisingly bare face. "Aren't you getting ready?"
"What? Oh," Bella grins, "I'm wearing a mask, remember? You'll be the unmasked belle of the ball."
"Yeah, but you'll be the Bella of the ball."
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"Another one?" The hired bartender at Cindy's ball is really quite skilled, she thinks as she tips back and straight up pours the entire flute of champagne down her throat. It must be her third or fourth one, but unfortunately, she's not quite as intoxicated as she'd like to be. She's honestly beginning to regret not asking Elsa to add vodka to the menu.
"Come on, birthday girl." Someone gives Cindy a hug from behind, and she's just about to pour her new glass of champagne onto their head before she realises that it's no one other than Ari, who must be the one person who has managed to smashed on champagne alone. Her friend adjusts her mask (and Cindy uses that term very loosely, because if anything, Ari's mask is now even more lopsided) and loops an arm around Cindy. "Cheer up! Dance a little. It's your birthday, silly," Ari throws her head back and laughs for no particular reason, which she always does when she's intoxicated.
"Leave me alone," Cindy grumbles, waving a hand at the bartender. "I'm having plenty of fun. Look," she says, gesturing to the long row of empty glasses in front of her, "I've had lots of liquid fun right there. My blood is 99% fun. I am positively oozing with it. And it's not my fault that it's been three hours and no Prince Charmings have asked me to dance yet -"
"Ooh!" Cindy's tirade is interrupted as her best friend waves frantically at someone in the crowd. "Hey! There's Eric! Ericcc," she calls, and then pouts. "He can't hear me." She tries again, twice more, before scowling somewhat adorably and climbing on top of the bar counter and whistling. "Hey, sexy boy!"
This time, Cindy spots a familiar black-haired man turn around. "Sweet cheeks," Ari sings, smiling lopsidedly as she, too, sees Eric weaving through the throngs of people toward her. She stumbles off the counter, throwing herself into her boyfriend's arms. Eric only sighs affectionately. "How many flutes of champagne have you had?"
Ari smiles woozily. "One? Two? Seven?" She giggles, and then sobers slightly. "Why? Was I not supposed to?"
Eric shakes his head gently, rolling his eyes comically at Cindy over his girlfriend's head. She's such a lightweight, he mouths to Cindy, before reassuring Ari. "It's okay. I haven't had anything to drink besides the lemonade. I'll drive us home."
"Yay!" Ari exclaims happily, before taking Eric's arm and leading him to the dance floor.
Cindy watches them go, feeling a slight twinge of envy at their so obviously delighted faces.
One hour (and a few drinks) later, Cindy decides that she may not have a prince for the night, but that doesn't mean she has to witness the disgusting sappiness happening all around her - on her birthday, no less. She heads out to the balcony - Elsa, with her amazing powers, had somehow managed to get a venue that is literally made of ice - and glares at the couple making out there until they leave. Cindy feels a slight twinge of guilt, but then pushes it away. She's not sober enough to care anymore, and takes a sip from her glass as if to prove a point.
Or at least she tries to take a drink, anyway, only to find her lips sipping at empty air as her cup is plucked right from her hands. "Hey!" She protests, spinning around to find a masked man holding her cup aloft in the air. Her eyes narrow at the sight, and she moves as if to grab it, only using her left hand to slap his face as he blocks her right one from the glass.
"Hey!" He's the one protesting now, cradling his right cheek under his mask, which, if the resounding smack was an indication, is most likely extremely red. Unfortunately, Cindy can't see, because Elsa's ice castle offers no lighting whatsoever. (But even more unfortunately, what she can see are his incredibly out-of-place Converse shoes.)
Cindy only holds out her hand for to the champagne. "Could you please hand me my best friend?"
Masked Man frowns. "Ari's in there -" He catches sight of Cindy's slightly exasperated look. "Oh. You want your alcohol." Instead of giving it to her, he merely pours the remainder into one of the potted plants beside them.
"NO!" Cindy cries, staring in horror at the now empty flute. It's the last straw in this horrible mess of a night. She whirls toward the man. "How could you?"
He looks taken aback. "Relax, it's just -"
"It is not just anything!" Cindy bursts out. Suddenly, she finds tears slipping down her cheek. Maybe it's the champagne talking, or maybe it's just all her pent-up sadness from all those twenty-odd less-than-six-hour relationships. "My girlfriend broke up with me after six hours, and that would've been fine but it seems like I can never make anything stick, and it's like I just bore everyone if I'm with them for more than two minutes, like for them I'm just some temporary thing and Cinderella has always helped me so I threw a ball, a goddamn ball, but even that's let me down and I have been sitting alone for the past four hours waiting for someone to ask me to dance and Ijustwanttofeellovedforonceinmylife!"
Cindy covers her face in her hands, for once not caring if anyone sees her crying. She feels the urge to apologise for her outburst, but pushes it down, because why would she be sorry for being human? She looks up slowly, expecting for the man to be staring or already gone, only to see him standing with his hand extended. "W-what?" She asks, still gasping slightly.
"Dance with me."
Cindy frowns, bewildered, and Masked Man sighs. "You've been waiting for someone to ask you to dance, right? I'm doing exactly that, aren't I?"
She takes his hand, still suspicious, even as he puts his arm around her waist and spins her around to the distant music playing from inside. "You poured my expensive champagne into a plant," she accuses, not really meaning it - she's feeling drained now, as she always does after she cries.
He dismisses the thought. "You were having too many. I helped you."
"You probably killed the plant."
"Maybe it likes champagne."
Cindy doesn't grace that with a reply, only resting her head against his shoulder. They sway back and forth for a while before she speaks up. "Why?"
"Hm?"
"Why are you doing this?" Cindy gestures down at his arm still wrapped around her waist as they shuffle back and forth. He shrugs. "It's your birthday. No one should be sad on their birthday. Especially someone like you, Cindy Lovelace."
"Do I know you?" She whispers, looking up at his eyes. She can't tell what colour they are in the dim light, but they seem to sparkle.
He laughs, gently. "Not really."
Cindy manages a wavering smile. "But I know everyone."
"No," he corrects, "you know who everyone is. But do you know who they are, really?"
"That was deep."
"I know. I might get that quoted and framed, one day."
She laughs. "But seriously," she says, "I want to know who you are."
Mystery Man (she likes the name better than Masked Man) just shakes his head. "Does it really matter right now?"
Cindy opens her mouth to say that yes, yes it did matter, only to find soft lips pressed against her own. She sighs gently against his mouth, returning the kiss.
They stay like that for a long time, lips brushing, still swaying to the music, when the clock chimes midnight, and her partner suddenly pulls away. "Oh, no," he mutters. "Oh, no."
"What's wrong?" Cindy starts to ask as he pulls himself away from her, straightening his jacket. Mystery Man looks at her, flustered. "Sorry. Sorry! I've got to go -"
And with that, he sprints inside the ballroom, leaving Cindy completely alone.
Again.
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dedicated to unalexeptable just because i've run out of people to dedicate things to and also because her story just got 15k+ wooo alex you go