The Taste of Silver | Fortune's Fool #2

10 | into liquid gold

warning: strong language, hot people, chaos and exposure of numerous secrets

[ i n t o   l i q u i d   g o l d ]

♥ gabriel ♥

IT ONLY TOOK two and a half bottles of Prosecco, a shattered champagne flute and a damn gold dress for the night to catch fire and cast a light upon what everyone had hidden in the graveyard.

But it wasn't a matter of what was buried beneath the ground.

It was more of a question of who opened their mouth and it just so happened to be tonight that people pushed past their hesitation and ruthlessly ripped off each other's pretty little masks, not caring if they simultaneously exposed their own uglier side.

"Baby, it's just one dance," an increasingly annoying voice pestered me, wrapping tightly around my crisp velvet blazer and unknowingly threatening to cut off my circulation. I shook her off, bored and gazing at the sea of bodies ballroom dancing side to side.

The committee had evidently spent a good proportion of the year planning this event and it showed. Probably around fourteen tables of eight were dotted around the outskirts of the grand hall, each adorned with a soft cream tablecloth and plates that were an identical shade to the huge pleats of material that had been draped around the elaborate four pillars in the corners of the room.

When I had entered the hall with Talisa, I'd caught sight of the bar that had been set up in the corner, serving alcohol to those of eighteen.

Flutes and bottles had been placed on the glass table which had spring flowers embedded beneath the glass surface. More of the same species of pale flowers had been plastered all over to place to the extent where although it looked appealing, it was becoming smothering.

Most people failed to recognise the suffocation of beauty, too transfixed with its entrancement.

Dumbasses.

I rolled my eyes thinking about it. The teachers were idiots if they thought Charlie O'Connor, the leader of natural sciences society, was going to have to guts to stop a classmate from underage drinking.

Being July born, I had always been one of the youngest in the year group and I used to bloody hate it. Yet having to repeat a year in the past meant that now I was a few months older than the eldest of the school cohort. ID wasn't an issue.

"Only one time. I won't ask again."

I'd been here ten minutes and the unsettling sound of classical waltz music had compelled me to down my second glass.

"You know I don't beg for things that I want, Riel. I get them. One dance."

Pulling sharply at the lapels of my suit, I stood up from my chair, grey eyes carefully inspecting the crowd. A soft breath of victory filled the air next to me as the slender hand moved away from my arm. "Yes, let's go. It'll be worth it."

As I sharply turned my head to the seafoam eyed girl beside me, who was only a few inches shorter than me even, a few strands of my hair falling onto my forehead. Irritated, I pushed them back up to the rest of the gelled up hair.

"What are you on about? Go where?"

"To dance?"

"To dance?" I laughed shortly, a succinct sound dry of humour. "No, Lisa. I'm going to get myself a drink."

Her face fell faster than the rate at which her expectations of me had seemed to risen tonight. The fact that today was a ball didn't mean much to me and it was narrow-minded of her to assume that.