Through the Crowd - Espresseleine Story

Setting Stage

(Warning before reading: blood, physical fighting, multiple uses of the f word, use of the s word)
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Damnit, Madeleine. Why are you like this? Thoughts rush through my brain while I weave my way through the crowd. I should have never come to this idiotic ball. It only serves me more problems that I don't know how to solve, and I don't even know what I could have possibly expected from going to such a social event. I suppose is must be my own fault above those of Madeleine's or Latte's, though, which is somehow even more disappointing.

I stop walking, although not abruptly. Where am I even going? There is no place to go.

"Espresso Cookie!" Calls a familiar feminine voice from somewhere to the front and side of me. I perk up and look around, but don't spot anyone through the crowd. It repeats itself, now closer and with less volume. "Espresso Cookie." Greets Latte, speed walking up to me. Oh, wonderful. Just what I needed; a sisterly figure to come and bother me right at this particularly unfortunate moment.

"Did Madeleine go and talk to you? He seemed awfully distraught last time we saw him." She questions quickly, motioning toward Financier, who is walking up behind her and seemingly following her like a dog. Before I can answer, she talks again, but in a more negative tone. "And what was that? You just kissed him and ran away?" She demands. What a headache.

Financier nods. "I, too, am very invested in this drama, and would like to know what is happening." She says bluntly.

"It was a difficult situation." I explain ever briefly.

Latte scoffs. "No excuse for bailing on your best friend! Not to mention the horribly confusing mixed signals." I can feel myself roll my eyes subconsciously.

"He can't be my best friend." I remark, although just slightly to them. It's more to myself then anyone.

"What did he talk to you about?" Financier asks blankly.

There's a pause between us all, awkward and uncomfortable as everything you could imagine it would be, lasting for multiple seconds while both Latte and Financier stare at me expectantly. "We just.." I have to stop myself from stuttering. "..Talked. About what happened."

Latte raises an eyebrow: somehow in suspicion, unamusement and amusement in a single movement. "And did you two talk about moving to the Upper City?"

Of course he would have consulted them about it. What more could I possibly expect? Not sharing his or my own personal lives with all of his tens of friends? Stupidity. "No." I've been known to be not the best liar, but it's amazing how sometimes traits like that can come and bite hard when you need it to the absolute least.

"Oh." Latte starts awkwardly. "Well, he was going to offer for you to move in with him. Be nice about it when he does, please- we all know he's a little sensitive." She suggests. "And, maybe you should go talk to him again."

Latte turns to leave, supposedly so that I can 'go talk to him again'. Apologies, but as if that's going to happen. What would we even talk about? The same conversation over once more? I turn as well, although towards the entrance. Maybe, he's still outside.

Suddenly, I feel someone grab my hand from behind. For a moment, there's a little spark of hope that it might be Madeleine for whatever reason, but as I turn to look the hope shrivels and dies as immediately as my brain processes the tall, red haired figure standing there. "Hello, Espresso." He greets coldly, pale brown eyes staring at me in a way I had wished they never would again: with a sadistic burning desire to harm.

I quickly pull my hand away and closer to myself. "Grenadine." I respond flatly.

"Come, have a talk with me." He suggests- although it's less of a suggestion then it is a command. There is no chance in all of Earthbread I will stand for him to ever speak to me like that.