Best Served Fake

five // spotlight

"Get down, Valerie!"

My hands ran down the lines of my body, pushed through my hair, reached skyward to touch the roof of Jack Heath's living room, which seemed to be sinking closer and closer, lit by silver sparks that swirled in the corners of my vision. Giggles and song lyrics spilled from my mouth as I paraded around the dining table, Jack's girlfriend Rebecca joining in and clasping my elbow familiarly.

Who needed Sydney? Rebecca would dance with me, and she didn't demand the spotlight.

"Valerie! Get down!"

I looked around, but I couldn't find the source of the voice. Was that my name?

"Valerie!"

I clambered off the dining table gracelessly, the world painted in blurry, vibrant hues and flashing lights, a glittery, colourful, spinning world I couldn't make sense of. There was still a thick crowd of people, hands and bodies and faces that bumped into me as I walked, yelling things that I couldn't make sense of. And who was calling my name?

"Ally," said Cora, appearing at my side as if from thin air. Magical. Her hand came up against my back, the pressure a comfort. I looked drunkenly over at her. Cora was pretty. Her hair was so long and golden, like a princess. But she was frowning. Princesses didn't frown.

I giggled at her downturned mouth, and poked her nose experimentally. She didn't smile. "Princess Cora isn't happy with me."

Cora grabbed my arm and hauled me to the corner of the room. "Princess Cora is thrilled that you're living your best life, and are, somehow, laughing, right now. Princess Cora just doesn't want you to fall of the table and break your neck."

"At least Sydney and Tommy could comfort each other at my funeral," I replied, sneering at the image. Stupid whores. And that wasn't slut-shaming, because we do not believe in slut-shaming in the House of Valerie. But we do believe in bad person shaming, and therefore would continue to slander the not-so-good names of Tommy and Sydney for many weeks, months, years to come.

With a grimace, Cora pushed me down on the couch. "Sober up just a little bit, okay? Kai is going to come and look after you while I find you some water."

"Kai? Like Sydney's Kai? Kai is at a different party," I slurred, my head lolling back against the couch. Jack had a pretty ceiling. It had a flower pattern engraved into the plaster, and it sparkled when I moved my head. "Otherwise, Sydney would be following him around instead of doing the dirty with my Tommy."

Cora rushed forward to pull my head forward, pushing it near my knees. The sharp tug made me feel a little nauseous, but the urge to hurl dissipated as she gently stroked the back of my neck with her thumb. "Can I tell you a little secret?" she whispered.

"I am the greatest keeper of secrets in the whole party," I replied. I lowered my voice to a whisper. "'Cos the ol' noggin' ain't doing aaany 'membering right now."

She grinned. "Kai was only at the other party because he was Mackenzie Ratten's date. They broke it off though. But don't tell Sydney." Then Cora considered and shook her head. "Honestly, do what you want. Syd deserves it."

I smirked. Sydney would be devastated to learn that Kai Delaney had been after another girl. Had it been any other night, I would've rushed to her side to insist that Kai had no idea what he was missing, that it was obvious they were a perfect set—with her humorous quips and good looks and his matching amusing nature and God-given face and body and general Kai-ness.

It was no surprise that Sydney had pursued Kai with single-minded ambition. They would be a charming couple. And they were like magic together; flirting and laughing and endless back-and-forth. Yet somehow, Sydney was yet to lock him down. Maybe because Kai wasn't the kind of guy who enjoyed being locked down. Or because somehow, Kai had seen her for the traitorous toad she was.