Edit | #Wattys2016

Epilogue

Chance's POV

The lights are blinding, a mix of neon red and purple and blue, sweeping across the dance floor. I've never been to parties before, and hopefully this will be my last one.

Blake walks up to me, grinning like an idiot. "What's up?" He slings an arm around my shoulder like we're best buddies, but by the way he's leaning all his weight on me, he's just doing this because he's going to fall over anytime soon.

"The ceiling, the sky, whatever," I drawl, wrinkling my nose. "Are you drunk?" I shove his arm off me, and he stumbles over himself a little, and then laughs at himself.

"Me? Nope," he makes a point of exaggerating each syllable, "but I can, because I'm not the one driving us back!"

A moment later, Athena appears from the crowd, her wild hair finally tamed into a simple bun. She finally spots Blake, who's now ranting about how magic carpets should exist in the Inner Cities - which doesn't exist anymore - and how unicorns are magical, and whoever hurts them or hates them are retards.

"I'm so sorry!" Athena says, grabbing Blake's arm. It comes out as a "I'm a pony" because the music's way too loud and Athena can't shout loud enough. The organizer of this party decided it'd be fun to bring this party back to the two thousands.

I raise my eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. A now severely-drunk Blake leans against his girlfriend, his arm tucked securely around her waist as she leads him out the door and gestures for me to follow.

Hopefully Troy doesn't get too drunk, because I'm definitely not coming back for him. He's turned legal this year, and like any other eighteen year-old, he's pretty hyped about the new privileges he gets as an adult.

Judging from past experiences, however, Shaylee is more likely to exceed her alcohol limit, just like her sister, who is now stumbling out the door, falling every three seconds, holding the door frame for support. She's going to have a massive hangover tomorrow.

Caden and Sharlynn broke up last month, but they're still the best of friends, and somehow, I still see the sparks that fly between them.

Emily, always, always, the life of the party, hops down from the table where she'd been dancing, sending me a signal to say that I should go home first. A group of her newfound friends cheer for her as she gets in the centre of the dance floor once again and shows off some complex moves that would most probably break my bones. I send a nod her way, before mouthing "stay safe" to her. She flashes me a thumbs-up, then proceeds to launch into a backwards somersault, before landing on the floor on the balls of her feet.

So much for staying safe.

Xavier brushes shoulders with me, clapping me on the back before walking out the door. He then backtracks a little, and looks over at Dakota, dancing next to her sister like no one's watching. He smiles a little, and she finally meets his gaze, blushing a little. He walks over to her and exchanges a few words with her, which - like always - ends up with them kissing. Thankfully, it doesn't get too intense because Emily's friends start cat-calling and hooting.

Over the past few years, Xavier's gotten less possessive and protective over Dakota, and has given her at least some breathing space, although I still find it a little awkward when their public displays of affection get a little too heated.

And then there's Samantha, who's decided to stay in the Inner Cities - the ruins of it, anyway - to salvage any lives left when both the Edit buildings, The Black Hole and Rehabilitation were blown up.

Walking out the door, I heave a sigh of relief when the strong scents of alcohol fade away, replaced by the cold, cutting night air of the Outer Cities.