Kaleidoscope

ii

"Am going to get punch okay?" Last thing I heard from Boris.

I sat waiting for him to return and talk. He didn't, I waited some more. No sign of the lanky black-haired boy. After a while, I let out an irritated sigh, heaving myself off of the dirty, murky floor. Walking out of the bathroom, I didn't see him. My eyes darted off to the punch stand, the flowery table top. Nothing. No one. Only thing left was the large fruit punch bowl, and about twenty or so remaining red party cups. I found myself aimlessly walking over there, grabbing one of the red party cups for myself, surprisingly, and pouring my own drink of punch. After a while, I was curled up on the bleachers, drinking more and more. And then it hit me, the punch was spiked.

So, now I was drunk as hell—not as much as usual though, considering the person who spiked this out to little to get someone wasted—and looking for Boris? What a perfect mashup, right ladies and gentlemen? I shivered as my tuxedo was very thin, I wish I hadn't really worn one. I was fine being cold though, as long as it wasn't her as hot as it was when she died. I took a deep breath, trying to shake away the tears stinging at the corner of my blue eyes. I brought one black sleeve up and wiped them, but the only thing that happened was more tears rushing out, and soon it became a waterfall. Usually Boris or Popchik would comfort me. I longed to feel the warmth of Popchik's small white body as he curled up next to me. I longed to feel Boris pull me closer to his chest, rest his head on mine, rub my back comfortingly and hear the words, It'll be okay, Potter. Quiet..

Five words from two strands called the vocal chords would comfort me. His vocal chords. I slowly rose, staggering as I looked around. Awkwardly attempting to walk, I kept on searching for the lanky boy. To see his curly black hair. To see his adorable smile as he spotted me too. And then I saw him.

His hands on her waist carefully as they slow-danced, pink hues beautifully strung across their faces from then on, painting a soft blush. His soft adoring gaze laid upon her tan face bedraggled with makeup. The look said that he saw no flaws, and it was trusting, sweet and apologetic. He was apologizing for her cheating on him? On him? I felt my teeth and fists clench, yet I didn't move forward. The tears didn't stop, in fact they were now a rushing, rapid river current, unstoppable. And then, he looked over and saw me. The adoration wiped clean from his face as his eyes flowed with the same worrisome water flowing down from my cheeks. Boris stopped and muttered something to Kotku.

"Potter? Is okay, what's wrong?" Boris' pale hand cupped my face, now I was closer to the worried, fretful, watching eyes. "Why are you crying?"

"So much for a bachelor prom." I felt the words flow out of my mouth and my hand flew to it as soon as I heard them.

I saw Boris look back at Kotku, give her a random gesture that I supposed meant, call you later. Boris glanced over at the punch cup, took it from me, sat it down and looked at me again. "Punch was spiked, yes? Come on, let's go home, hm?"

I just nodded, a lump growing in my throat as Boris gently guided me away.