Survival Of The Fittest

Desiree stared down Cecil as he and his bitch smelling faintly of weed disappeared inside. The crowd halved, so at least now it was easier to think. Not easy, mind you; Desiree's head still tensed and curled and the racket from inside didn't help one bit.

Claude was just the person she needed, so phase one accomplished. She was still running on a time crunch, though, so no time to relax just yet.

"Okay, my mom...," she started, shaking her head. Not loud enough; she coughed and did another take.

"My mom is threatening to call the cops; might've done so already. She flipped out about some kids crawling around on the roof and the music. We tried to calm her down, but..."

She winced. She was ready to jam an ice pick in her eye to kill the pain or herself; either option was fine.

"...Just letting you know."

That was certainly a curveball.

Now, Lavender had some personal thoughts about the prospect of the police being called, which tended to circle around phrases like "May I see your warrant, officer?" but it wasn't her house or her party and she didn't really want to have a confrontation with the cops. It just wasn't worth it, not on somebody else's account.

At the same time, if she was feeling a little anxious about this, Claudeson was probably about ready to claw his way out of his skin and split for the hills. He was a good guy, but also a proper sort, someone whose personal beliefs and conduct probably made Lavender look like a raging irresponsible hedonist. She really doubted he'd want to stick around and deal with the authorities, but thought he might well do so anyways, out of a sense of duty. He was just that sort of person, and the idea of his being put in such a situation on someone else's behalf stuck in her craw.

That meant it was time to intervene.

Claudeson was many things, but a crafty operator wasn't one of them. He was too clean for deception and shady tricks. Lavender, however, wasn't. Wyatt's election to the anti-bullying club presidency may not have paid off quite as well as she'd hoped, but she'd still managed to engineer it. She had a deft hand when it really mattered, and in this case, saving a bunch of her classmates from a run-in with the fuzz seemed a noble enough goal to get a little dirty. It took a moment for a plan to take shape, but when it did, it came fully-formed in an instant.

"Okay," Lavender said, taking a quick glance at Claudeson, whose authority she was immediately usurping. He was probably not going to approve of this. She hoped he wouldn't judge her too harshly. "Okay. Thanks for the heads-up. And, uh, and I have an idea. To get us all out of this mess, because, uh, because I would never tell but I'm sure someone would find out it was her and I'm sure you don't want to have to deal with how everyone would feel about that."

She wasn't trying to threaten Desiree. Really, honest. Lavender would absolutely take the girl's side if anything did come of it, do all she could to run interference. Her lips were sealed about Desiree's involvement. But these things did get around, inevitably. She was just laying out the situation, making the stakes for all of them crystal clear.

"So how about this?" she continued. "You find out if she's already called the cops. If she has, text me and we'll take care of it. But if not... If not, tell her one of the other neighbors must've called them already, because they turned up while you were here and yelled at everyone to get off the roof and turn down the music and dragged a couple drunk freshmen off. And then, then I'll go and get everyone off the roof and make them turn down the music, so we get the same results, just without actually involving the police, and nobody knows there was every any risk."

It was something. Desiree didn't seem like she was going to be thrilled about lying to her mom, but maybe that was Lavender projecting. In any event, she thought it was their best shot. There was nobody on the roof out front, so Desiree's house had to not have line of sight to the door, leaving scant room to verify, and the story was plausible. Enough details to ring true, not enough to arouse suspicion.

She really hoped this would work.

The smile never fell away from his face, but Claudeson's body stiffened as the word 'police' emerged from Desiree's mouth. The girl seemed serious about the implied threat and while he'd always known that there would have been a chance that the police might get involved, he had hoped to avoid that eventuality. But of course, thanks to a certain over-involved mother, that possibility seemed to have gotten a good degree higher.

To his surprise, Lavender stepped up almost immediately, not waiting for his input or his reaction, and started laying out a plan of attack. Excellent. Lavender was a righteous person, but she had come to the party to have a good time, not watch as it was broken up by some bored beat-cops having to venture into the rich part of town. Part of the reason that he'd originally accepted Mikki's request was because he was known to many of the police officers in town - his volunteer efforts often intersected with that of the local police force, and many of them happened to be members of his mother's congregation. If nothing else, a responding officer might have a preexisting personal relationship with him and that would buy them a little time to get things settled down, or talk the officers down.

Lavender's suggestion was a good one, and while it was a bit more devious than he'd originally thought could come from her, he just nodded along silently. He wasn't aching for any kind of confrontation with the police; talking Desiree's mother out of following up would be a smart call. Besides, if the police did end up taking a visit, Claudeson was certain that the rumour mill would roast Desiree alive, a party to it or not.

Social media could be a messy thing.

"I think that's an excellent idea, Lavender. I would agree, the noise level is a little excessive, so we can easily tone that down. I'm sure Mikki wouldn't object to turning the music down a decibel level or two." He turned to look back at the house behind them.

"It is a large house, after all. Half of the guests probably aren't even there for the music."

For the debauchery and the stain upon their souls was what he didn't say, but he kept it to himself. The smile remained pasted to his face, and he looked back upon Desiree.

"What do you think?" Claudeson had observed the wince, so he added a personal touch. "After that, perhaps we can find you something for that headache. I would imagine there should be some Aspirin or Advil inside."

That would work, either way. Either the threat to the party would end, or Desiree would become complicit if the police were to show up. The music throbbed gently from inside of the house as they waited for her to make her decision.

Well, this went a little differently than Desiree practiced on the walk over here. The cheerleader had a game plan and everything.

" [...] I'm sure someone would find out it was her and I'm sure you don't want to have to deal with how everyone would feel about that."

Desiree watched her, eyes bulging and toes curling at the end of that statement. Was... was Desiree really that transparent? She paused for a second before nodding, urging the cheerleader to continue.

The plan was briefed. It just might work. Of course her mother didn't know she was out, but Desiree could figure something out. She had to, lest she be branded the school traitor and publically stoned come Monday.

Claude interjected with his approval of the plan along with inviting Desiree inside. Tylenol would be nice, but then she really would be Deadiree if her mother found out she was here. She just shook her head and replied, "I need to head back. She probably knows I'm out of the house already. I'll spin it so she'll think I just talked to the neighbors or something; I'll figure it out."

She pulled out and unlocked her phone, still open to iMessage with the last few texts she sent Parker (where the fuck was he?) She input the cheerleader's number in the recipient line of a new message and shot off a simple text just saying "Desiree".

"I'll see what I can do. Just... please warn Forrest or Mikki or whoever the hell is in charge to knock the music down a little."

With that she turned to leave, walking with more pep in her step as she fled down the street with purpose.

((Desiree Beck's spring semester concluded))

((Mikki Swift continued from In Vino Veritas))

Ever the good party host, Mikki was going around making sure everyone was still having a good time at her party. People were stopping her to talk in the hallways and she'd done her best to make the conversation a good one, but with her lite drink in hand she was mainly heading for the front door so she could check on Claude.

Aside from that idiot Marco, she hadn't really seen anyone who could ruin things hanging around, so, all in all, he must have been doing a good job. That said, this wasn't exactly Fort Knox, or a Kardashian Supermansion; if people really wanted to get in, they'd find a way, but at least putting a single guy out front prevented the stupid ones from being stupid. If you wanted to make trouble yet you couldn't get past Claude, then you were being saved from yourself all things considered.

And so, she found herself near the front of Forrest's house, watching Claude and some others milling around. She'd have taken a mental note of who the others were but after dealing with that giant group of drinking gamers, she let her social side down and just vaguely acknowledged them as a whole.

"Hi folks, how we doing?"

She raised her drink to them, before turning to Claude.

"How's things been out here, anybody given you any trouble tonight?"

Claudeson approved of Lavender's plan, at least overtly. She didn't think he was the sort to put on a false smile about it, either, so it seemed he was on board. That was nice. Desiree had no interest in sticking around, but she exchanged numbers with Lavender, who replied with a text of her own ("hey, it's Lavender from school & the party"). Then the girl was off to do damage control.

That, of course, meant that the real work was to begin. Lavender was about to set out on just that mission, finally actually entering the house, when the object her impending search made things easy by coming to her instead.

Of course, that changed the equation a little. Had Lavender been running inside on her errand, she would've had a measure of desperate gravitas behind her request. Here, though, in the realm of the door, Claudeson was the one in charge. He was the one appointed by Mikki, and he was the one who'd be in better position to explain the situation.

"I'm doing well," Lavender said, giving Claudeson a glance. "We, uh, just had someone come by, though..."

She trailed off, the baton of the story tossed towards the one who'd be more likely to carry it over the line.

Desiree didn't seem to want to have much to do with the party itself, and Claudeson honestly couldn't blame her. Had he not been conscripted by Mikki to help out with keeping the riff-raff from causing too much of a disturbance, he likely wouldn't have been within twenty meters of this den of debauchery. It wasn't at all his scene, and no good could possibly have come from him going inside. So as she agreed to Lavender's plan and made her leave of them, Claude couldn't help but wonder if Desiree would actually try and dissuade her mother at all. Dealing with the police had been a consideration, of course, but one he would have preferred to avoid.

Turning back to Lavender, he was about to comment on the situation at hand when the second of their hosts made her presence felt, and thankfully, Mikki was much more cognisant of her surroundings then Forrest had been. That, in and of itself, was a relief. Dealing with a massive party when both hosts were inebriated and otherwise unable to keep things from spiralling was not something he wanted to have on his own plate. Being peripherally involved was, for his money, the best decision he could have made.

"Things have been well."

Claudeson was about to continue, to affirm that everything was going fine, when Lavender spoke up, immediately addressing the potential threat that Desiree's mom had given. It was interesting, he noted to himself, that Lavender was so quick to speak up, to raise the issue. She trailed off, leaving it to him, and he exhaled softly as he nodded in agreement.

"Yes, we had a small noise complaint from one of your neighbours. I believe the bass from the music is carrying a bit further down the street than you may have expected. It might not be a bad idea to turn down the speakers - at least the ones nearest to any open windows."

Looking around at the driveway, he saw it was devoid of partygoers - just the three of them out front.

"Otherwise, things have been smooth. No trouble to report, really."

((Faith C. Marshal-Mackenzie continued from Something Wicked This Way Comes))

The mouth of the bottle was pressed up against Faith's lips again as she dramatically threw the front door open in front of her, happy to have escaped the party before Ivy's flurry of texts to prospective white knights went out, and un-evened the score back in their fair maiden's favour. Now all she had to do was figure out how to get ho-

Ah fuck, there were still people watching the entrance.

...

Wait, how fucking early was it?

She lowered the bottle and her head, and shut the door much less dramatically behind her, before beginning to trudge down the path towards the three figures that were dispersed around the entranceway. They were talking about... Something. It was hard to follow.

Maybe if she just didn't acknowledge them as she walked through she could just like...

Sorta Jedi-mind trick them into not noticing her...

Fuck it, was worth a shot.

Oh rad, she hadn't had a noise complaint in a while. Usually she held parties in places where they didn't want police around, so they just let them happen. But this was a rich-ass neighbourhood so there were probably disgruntled old people all in a huff about children having fun, like they'd never had fun in their life and were spat from the womb decrepit dinosaurs who had the right to complain about everything. Still, Forrest did let them know ahead of time, right? That's probably why there was the complaint and not a police squadron ruining all of their lives right now.

So while she nursed the idle red cup in her hands, she nodded and looked back and forth between the two as she was told what was going on at her own party.

"Ah yeah, that's totally fair I guess. I mean, I don't think there's any windows in the basement but I'll zhuzh it down a bit once I'm back there. Probably pretend it shorted out for a bit so everyone isn't like 'oh that's Mikki ruining our party, fuck her' and stuff, y'know?"

Of course they knew, Mikki was an excellent explainer of things.

It was also pretty great to hear nothing else had happened - nobody tried pressing their luck with Claude at the door, which was awesome. It probably meant the party wasn't going to end in complete disaster and she'd have something to talk about for the last few months of school. Maybe she'd even overshadow prom, how awesome would that be?

"But yeah I'll get to that, just gotta check on everyone and have a bit of a music break. Oh, and before I forget, some random back there was talking about someone on the roof, do you know any-"

But before Mikki could finish that particular question, the door sprung open behind her, followed by Mikki looking over her shoulder at the new participant. There was Lavender, there was Claude, and now there was Faith Marshal-Mackenzie. Mikki usually avoided her at school since she hung with the really lame crowd and was friends with some really lame people, despite how much clout they had and how much better it was for her parties for them to be at them, but now it seemed she was about to enter into a conversation with her.

Or not, since Faith seemed to want to ignore them and walk right out of the party. Mikki wasn't insulted or anything, people had their limits, and it's not like she didn't invite everyone regardless of how rad a party animal they were, but Faith was also carrying a pretty obvious bottle of whiskey in her hands, and that was a no-no out in the general public. Sure she may have been a white girl, as were most people at this party, and thus usually exempt from the law, but there had just been a noise complaint which could just as easily be followed by the police showing up, so it was important there wasn't seniors carrying really obvious bottles around when there were only a few months before graduation. After that, she couldn't care less, but right now Faith wasn't leaving the house, so Mikki threw her arm up in front of the departing girl.

"Sorry, can't let you leave drinking that unforch, kinda against the law. So if you wanna leave you gotta hand it over."

The other option was to make her drink it all before she left, but Mikki would rather someone not die at her party.

It seemed like everything was settled, then. Mikki would take care of knocking the music down a few notches, probably to the relief of most of the party, even. That the faint thumping could be heard even here spoke to a certain validity behind the complaints. Whatever was going on on the roof would be dealt with, hopefully without any injury ensuing. After that, all that remained to do was to wait and hope that Desiree managed her side of the operation and that the cops didn't actually show up.

Then again, if they arrived to find everything orderly and under control, Lavender imagined it would be possible to keep them from actually entering and encountering the myriad actually illegal happenings taking place within.

Just then, as if conjured by that thought, the door flew open and Faith burst out, bottle in hand, before immediately transitioning to a much more nonchalant, unobtrusive manner of movement. Lavender didn't pay too much attention at first; she liked Faith a lot, doubted the girl would cause any trouble, and was honestly mostly just happy to see her not in the company of Wyatt. As far as Lavender was concerned, Faith could do whatever she felt like, but Mikki was quick to call out about the alcohol the girl conspicuously held.

That brought a few other questions and concerns to mind, snapping Lavender ever so sightly out of her laser-focus on the police problem.

"Hey, Faith," she said, tossing her friend a wave and a nod. Then, raising an eyebrow, she added, "You on your way out?"

And then, a little more quietly, tone level because she wasn't judging, just a little concerned, but she didn't want to be smothering or boring or rain on anyone's parade but she just had to ask to keep her conscience clear, "You need a ride anywhere?"

Claudeson nodded and smiled at Mikki as she took full ownership over the music issue. That was good - the odds were that if the police had been called, the reduced volume would likely deter them from taking a real look at the party and all of the underage drinking that was undoubtedly occurring. In a sense, he was glad. There were far too many things going on here that the police would frown upon, and he was still skirting the line of being associated with a fun event while trying to avoid being seen as helping along any of the unpleasant elements that went along with it.

As Mikki continued and began to ask about something to do with people on the roof, Claudeson furrowed his brow and thought back. Desiree had indeed mentioned something about people crawling around atop the house, though he didn't think that Lavender or himself had taken that part of it all that seriously. As he was thinking back to see if anyone else had mentioned anything, the door swung open and Faith emerged, obviously quite intoxicated and holding a fairly large bottle of alcohol, ready to set off down the street.

Both their host and Lavender immediately sprung into action, which allowed Claudeson to hide his disdain for the entire situation at hand. He wasn't going to outwardly chastise Faith for drinking - that would have been foolish given where he was - but he would have expected her of all people to have more decorum than that. Faith was the representative for their class; Nathan barely counted as anything but a figurehead in the student government, a position that she had genuinely tried to fill with as much vigour as she could.

He knew that he would have done a much better job, naturally. Faith couldn't lace his boots when it came to making a difference around the school. That should have been his position, his time to lead. Not that second-rate floozy.

Putting on a smile for Faith, his attention was diverted as he heard strange noises coming from the garage area near to the side of the house. Furrowing his brow, he kept his attention partially on Faith, but tried to actively listen for anything more from the garage area. He said nothing out loud, but continued to let Mikki and Lavender handle the situation. Hearing another noise, he sighed a little. The garage was likely not an area that partygoers should be wandering around in, there were liable to be dangerous chemicals, cleaners, and tools there.

"Mikki, I believe you said that your garage was off-limits... ?" Claudeson interjected, allowing the implication to hang there, unfinished.

It was horribly tempting to just yell something to the effect of "FUCK THE POLICE" and duck under Mikki's arm and run off. She could probably get far enough away that they wouldn't bother trying to stop her, and then she'd be free to drink the whiskey all the way home. Although, now that she thought about it, that didn't seem like a great idea. Her stomach decided to remind her that all the whiskey and coke and running earlier hadn't been kind to it, as well, and her unoccupied hand pressed against it for a moment as she tried not to express the wave of nausea that trickled through her.

She wasn't going to vomit - She wasn't that drunk, Jesus - But she knew if she even looked remotely like she was going to, that'd make them think she was that drunk and she just couldn't be bothered with that.

There was an exasperated sigh, followed by a "Fine" and an outstretched hand offering the bottle to the host. It was only fair she got to enjoy the confiscatory proceeds of the night, she supposed.

Lavender spoke up as well, and she felt a pang of guilt as she considered saying yes. It felt awful tempting to take a ride over walking down to the bus stop. But she wasn't about to make her friend leave a party when, clearly, she'd barely gotten here. That would be imposing on her in just the worst way, because of something she'd done, something she'd made the decision to do.

She gave her a quick smile and a dismissive wave of a hand. "I'm just headed home, went a little too hard and trying to like, dip before things get wild." her smile transformed into a wider grin as she reached a hand out to pat Lavender on the shoulder "Have double the good time for me, alright hun?"

She let her hand drop down from Lavender's shoulder and started trying to move forwards, before her attention was brought to Claudeson, and then to the garage, where a few bursts of muffled laughter were drifting from.

"The fuck kinda party game you playing in a garage? Vodka, Vodka, Antifreeze?" she wondered aloud.

Good choice.

"Thanks."

Mikki's waiting hand was suddenly laden with alcohol. As good a way to end that situation as any, especially considering it could have ended much worse if Faith wanted it to, but now her attention was brought back to her other two guests. Lavender was offering Faith a ride, and Claude had just mentioned something about the garage. Of course, Mikki could probably go and find someone who was heading out to make them give Faith a lift home, probably one of the boring straight-edgers hanging around, but then-

Wait, shit, what was up with the garage?

"The fucking-"

She turned around to face the house garage and she too could hear noises from within. It was barely noticeable over the party heartbeat but there was definitely somebody, or somebodies, in there.

"Of all the fucking-Jesus Christ, I specifically said-"

Mikki downed her drink, nodded towards the miniature crowd, and paced off forcefully towards the inside of the house, trying to remember exactly which door led to the garage in the first place, bottle of straight whiskey in one hand and an awkward empty red solo cup in the other.

"I'm not fucking sober enough for this I swear to-"

((Mikki Swift continued elsewhere))

Shoulders sagging slightly with relief as Mikki cursed up a storm walking towards whomever was messing about in the garage, Claudeson watched their host as she left. He didn't mind the fact that she was taking responsibility - Mikki was infinitely more capable than Forrest right now in any case, but there was a degree of frustration. Claudeson didn't appreciate having to take orders from people who were inebriated or out of their minds on illicit substances. Like most of his thoughts, he stuffed them deep down within himself and turned to look at Lavender and Faith. Having been deprived of her bottle of booze, Faith was now at a substantially lower risk of self-harming and could be allowed to continue on her way. Once she left the premises, she was no longer his responsibility.

"Please make sure that you get home safely, Faith. If you feel weak or too intoxicated, make sure to call yourself an Uber, or a cab."

He summoned that ever-responsible smile and gave it out to Faith. It was interesting - the last time he'd told someone to get home safely, it had been under dramatically different circumstances. He had said the words with malice in his heart, and had meant anything but when it came to Tyrell Lahti. This time, he found himself surprised to realize that he meant them a bit more. Glancing at Lavender, he nodded at the keys that had found their way into her hand.

"It's very kind of you to offer a ride, but perhaps you should go in and enjoy the festivities?"

He didn't know how much enjoyment Lavender would get out of the party itself. Likely not much more than he himself would. This didn't seem like the place for sobriety or good decisions, and Lavender had both of those qualities in spades right now.

"I really don't mind," Lavender said, looking from Claudeson to Faith. "I can always come back after, if I feel like it."

She looked at the house, listened to the faint and distant thumping, both of bass from basement and miscreance from garage. The place was buzzing, surely a haven of all sorts of activities both illicit and benign. She thought again about the mention of trouble on the roof.

"I'm sure it'll still be going."

This was true; likely Forrest would be chasing out stragglers until mid-morning tomorrow at least. Still, the vibe, the character of the proceedings would change before too long. Highs would run out, people would pair off, calm of a sort would swell.

Taking a quick moment for a long breath, Lavender asked herself how she actually felt, whether she'd regret it if her offer was accepted. She did like parties. Not the drunk people, necessarily, not the drama, but the energy, the socialization and the shared euphoria of young people gathered together, celebrating nothing more than the fact that they were alive. There were plenty of things to do sober, if you felt like it—games to be played, jokes to be laughed at, dances to be danced, maybe even lips to be kissed.

But at the same time, there were more important things in life. Faith was a friend, and even if she wasn't, safety was important. Lavender always hoped that if something really bad ever happened to her, or if she was ever in real danger, there'd be someone there to lend her a hand, and so she tried to be that person for others in her own little way. That was, really, also part of why she came. She was there to enable the irresponsible, but she didn't think that was a bad thing; they would do what they did regardless of her presence, but by being there she would help make sure they lived to laugh at themselves years later.

And, yeah, the idea of slipping away before everything potentially hit the fan with the cops was kind of appealing, though if she did she'd have to leave her phone with Claudeson for safekeeping, just in case Desiree needed to get in touch. Lavender trusted Claudeson not to poke through her stuff, and to take what actions needed taking to keep everything on track. And that would demonstrate that she really did intend to come back, that she wasn't just martyring herself.

Of course, if Faith really wanted to do this solo, that was her choice too. Lavender wasn't her mom, and if the girl wasn't going to be doing anything profoundly irresponsible (like getting behind the wheel) then she could presumably take care of herself.