Dark Matter • Bellamy Blake [Slow Updates]

Happy Travels and Unity Day Scandal

"121."
"122."
"123."
"124."

I stop, pausing beside a sizable monolith, "which leaves approximately 124 paces northwest between the seventh and eighth boulder," I mumble under my breath, scribbling down the data onto Clarke's notebook.

I took the executive decision to map out our trek to mount weather, since the nuclear wars from nearly a century ago undoubtedly caused drastic structural changes to the terrain, it was necessary to modify the ancient map Clarke has crafted for herself, no doubt copied from an outdated Earth Science textbook she had studied. This exercise would additionally be helpful under the circumstance that we lost our bearings, it would cause our return back to the drop ship to be more efficient.

Yet it did prove to be a strenuous task.

"Let's see how many paces we have till boulder No. 9," I sigh, exhausted by the thought of the myriad of boulders that lay between us and mount weather.

"One."
"Two."
"Thr-"
"Shut up!"

Octavia was the source of the aggravated exclamation. The wondierlusted girl stole a heated glance at me with her kaleidoscopic eyes. "If you're half as smart as they say you are I bet you're more than capable of counting in your head."

Her snarky comment startles me at first, the teenager who was presently stalking ahead of me, persistent in her sexual advances towards my best friend, was so far altered from the timid girl I had encountered two years ago.

Yet I grin in amusement, "Hint taken," I mutter lightheartedly, proceeding to resume my task mentally at her request.

Until this point in time I was the under the comforting assumption that the youngest Blake possessed a sentiment of gratitude for me, after the Unity Day Scandal, after I risked jeopardizing my future for the sake of the Blakes.

~Almost 2 years ago~

The list of activities I would endure rather than attending the Unity Day Dance is endless.

I would rather endure an infinite workout in which each task completed would be replaced with a far more strenuous exercise, I would rather watch my two best friends play tonsil hockey without flinching, I would rather wear the acrimonious perfume that Jasper concocted through his determination to possess a signature musk. Most atrocious of all, I would rather complement Coal Matters.

Despite all the sacrifices I am willing to undertake, why am I cloistered in this humid room surround by throngs of horny amateurs grinding to the deafening beat of an overplayed soundtrack?

Because when you are the victim of an arranged engagement it is essential to keep up appearances.

Consequently, I was ordered to arrive at this tasteless masquerade with Coal Matters as my escort. Upon entering the dance, Coal proceeds to greet his brainless comrades with his hand tightly gripping mine, showcasing me as an untouchable prize. As we drift away from his group of duds, Coal allows his uninvited hand to trace his the length of my spine ultimately settling on my lower back as he whispers in my ear, "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Yes, you did, Matters, twice actually, " I mutter begrudgingly.

"Sorry, I just can't help myself," he says smugly, as if he was the heartthrob of the century.