Thrumming bass and relentless synths were her deliverance, lost in the endless loop of music that wasn’t different enough to stand apart. Sophie couldn’t tell where one song ended and the others began. She didn’t know the difference between her hands or theirs or one body from the next. They were all riding the same him, brought together by a self absorbed dj spinning tracks in the hope people will love him more than he loves himself. He won’t get that tonight, not here, not with this crowd. Even now, beneath porcelain and leather, they still look down on outsiders. They can smell the lowly and unworthy from a mile away. No amount of rubbed off glitter or sweat can hide the truth.
Her identity is hidden behind more than just a gilded mask, buried deep down within her, numbed by the buzz of ecstasy racing through her veins. Tonight she has to be like them, a proper senator’s daughter. There would be no drawing on napkins or hiding on the roof away from prying eyes. Sophie would dance a little too close, drink a little too much, and take whatever was necessary to make her forget. It was cliche and sadly familiar. This was the life she’d been cursed with.
Somewhere in the crowd were her brothers and her sister, playing their parts as they always had, obedient and charming in a way she could never be. Only Jase would understand her even he was brainwashed into compliance. They were puppets in her father’s game. All rendered defenseless by his scheming mind. He knew how to pull their strings, manipulate and manage them. She had tried to break free before but her legs were cut out from beneath her. There was no being saved, no salvation under his roof. It was everything or nothing. There was only one way to be free and lately it had seemed more appealing.
She’d grown tired of it. Pretending not to hate the pretentious assholes that groped at her, playing nice with the insecure women that demeaned her. Still she remained at the middle of it all, letting them tear at her piece by piece until nothing was left of who she was. Sophie was defenseless against them, a souless body dressed designer clothes. Pretty and hollow she danced, hoping someone, anyone, could make her feel alive again if only for a moment. No one had succeeded.
Stumbling through the crowd she lifted the hair off the back of her neck, her skin glistening from the heat. The wetness caused a shiver to run down her spine at the change in temperature as clumsy feet edged towards her table. Her buzz was wearing off and the last thing Sophie wanted to remember was a single moment of this. The later it got, the worse things would be and she wanted the evenings events to be as much as mystery as the faces hidden behind a centuries old tradition.
Sophie fell into her chair as gracefully as she could manage, rummaging through her clutch for substance induced freedom. If her body couldn’t be free, her mind certainly could.
Denied, by the smug satisfaction of her sister’s grin and the searing anger in her cold blue eyes. She hands the empty bag back to Sophie with a tight grip on her younger sister’s arm, nails digging into the lace and flesh. Her expression is polite but her words are sharp and she chastises her with reckless abandon. She isn’t listening to Haley, too busy trying to figure out where to score her next hit. If it isn’t her own than it will have to be someone else’s. They can afford it, every one of them and if they get caught, so be it. Excuses will be made, apologies given, and the worst of it will be swept under a rug where no one can see their dirty secrets.
Haley has a few of her own. A few Sophie isn’t afraid to tell if she doesn’t let her go. Events like this have the worst effect on her. Warping her sense of right and wrong, turning her into a villain who plays the victim. She doesn’t like it, doesn’t want to feel this way anymore. So her search begins, ripping free of Haley’s grasp, disappearing in the technicolored crowd.
She’d only stolen once before but never with this urgency. Sifting through priceless possessions and folds of money for something of greater value. One bag, two, ten, nothing. But the last, over the top and tossed aside, that one gives her hope. Sophie barely noticed him as she made a move for it. There had been no witnesses until now, the man behind the poppy mask watching as she grabbed for the purse. If she hesitated he would know it wasn’t hers. But then again she had the mask to conceal the truth. He wouldn’t know who she was anyways. Still, something in her wasn’t certain. Hesitating to follow through with what she had spent the last fifteen minutes determined to do.
The reward proved greater than the risk and she delved into the bag with little remorse finding what she was looking for with a satisfied grin. Sophie’s dark eyes flickered back up to the man, watching the golden liquid disappear, thinking he was in no position to judge. She wondered if he was like the rest of them, arrogant and crass, but didn’t bother to ask. A little mystery went a long way and that was the point of this wasn’t it?
The event was meant to be for charity but it was just another chance for the rich and powerful to play with their money. In the morning they’d find a way to get it all back, like this evening had ever happened. Sophie wondered if she could play the same dangerous game. If she could tempt fate without any fear of consequence. Grabbing a champagne flute of her own she pressed the unknown tab to her tongue, washing it down with the bubbly alcohol. “Salut,” she offered, placing the stemware on the covered tables and disappearing back into the crowd.
It took longer for this one to kick in than the last but when it did she could feel her heart beating out of her chest. The lights were brighter, the music louder, and everything as was a blur. The drug was potent and her surroundings were hypnotic. It was like being in a world of her own, everyone else was just a part of it. She swayed through the crowd, letting herself be moved like a wave crashing through the sea.
She couldn’t recall going from the party to the balcony but the burn of crisp air in her lungs was refreshing. Cars honked down below in flashes or red and white lights, a new rhythm. Sophie walked along the barrier, bare feet on cold concrete, lingering dangerously between life and death. “Take these broken wings and learn to fly,” she hummed, looking down at the busy streets below. For a moment she let herself consider it. What would it be like to fly?
It wasn’t hard to tell what she was looking for and Hypnos’ eyes followed her as she left the table, wondering if she’d found anymore of the tabs that she was willing to share. The purse obviously wasn’t hers, given that there was a group of unwanted, ransacked bags tossed in a careless pile at her elbow. But she’d been lucky: the one who’d seen her was probably the only one in the room who didn’t care that she’d been stealing. He did it himself sometimes, when there was no money in his pocket and the candy bar at the counter looked just too appetizing.
Although she’d taken something much more valuable than candy.
Watching her from behind the red porcelain, green eyes followed the young lady as she poured through the crowd like a waterfall, snaking like a river between flailing limbs and sharp laughter. All the sounds around him felt too sharp, too much like knives cutting into his flesh. Even the music, whose vibrations should have felt round and smooth as they flowed through him, made him feel prickly and on edge. It didn’t make much sense- normally he thrived in clubs like this, could spend the whole night dancing and drinking and whoring himself for anyone that wanted to take a turn. But tonight was different and Sleep almost wished they’d just stayed home instead of venturing out on an errand for those above them.
Thanatos could sense his unease and he broke his concentration for a moment, turning to his twin with an unspoken question on closed lips. Shrugging, the younger one shook his head, watching the way the lights danced on his brother’s mask of flame in lieu of giving him an answer. After a moment, a pale hand found it’s way to the other’s, and they locked their fingers together as they returned to watching the crowd, an anchor to hold them together in the writhing mass of humanity.
He could only stand sitting still for so long though.
Raising their twined hands to his lips, Hypnos pressed a kiss to the back of his brother’s hand before he rose, intending to go and lose himself in the music. Perhaps once he began to dance, he’d feel better. Perhaps if he found that girl, he could steal a night of ecstasy away from her. A drop or two of nectar, the chosen drink of the gods, had a way of bringing out a substance’s full potential. What he wanted was to not remember his own name, nor the uncomfortable sensations running through his body.
It was easy to find her again. She had left the crowd of dancers in favor of a side door, and with a feeling of relief he could see that it was not marked with one of those glowing red exit signs. (An errant thought intruded and he felt the urge to ask the humans why they made their safety signs the same color as the most likely danger. Perhaps that would be the disaster- a burning light catching fire, or a candle carelessly knocked to the floor by a stray elbow.) At least he wouldn’t have to chase her down the sidewalk.
His brother hated people touching him, and Hypnos had spent years watching Death perfect the art of dodging people in a crowd, making it through without a single person brushing against his back or arms. He’d never really had the chance to practice the skill- what should he care if a human tapped him on the shoulder?- but he put the years of watching into practice now. His body felt swollen and heavy, as if his skin was stretched too tightly across his bones, and someone other than Thanatos touching him seemed... Ill-advised at the moment.
Up the stairs he went, determining quickly that what he was climbing was the service stairwell to the roof. There were no other doors meant to allow access to any of the floors; just a straight shot between the first floor and the highest point of the building. It wasn’t a hard climb but he found himself becoming winded, something that hadn’t happened in many, many years. (Something was wrong.)
The cool night air felt even more fantastic then he remembered. Wind whipped across the roof, tossing dirt and rust into the air, pushing the scents of motor oil and smog and garbage into his nose. Hypnos gratefully drank them in, throwing his head back to the look at the stars for just a brief moment. His mother had sewed them all into place very carefully: millions upon millions of diamonds spread across her mantle, lovingly draped in place every night and gathered up again in the morning. No matter how many years he spent in service to the Lord of the Underworld, his place would be here, in the darkness of his mother Nyx, with the energy of the mortal world strumming before him. Sleep could feel the presence of millions upon millions of dreamers tossing and turning in their beds, and it was almost enough to make him feel better.
When he was finished with a silent prayer to his mother, green eyes turned to find where the girl had gone. There weren’t many places to hide here and so he found her quickly, dancing on the edge of the building, gaze turned towards the streets below. It looked as though she couldn’t decide between returning to the land or having her chance to fly for a few moments. Hypnos could fault the human: he’d picked the later on multiple occasions, just to feel the freeness of soaring through the air. Envy for his brother’s beautiful black wings sat deep in his gut.
“Are you going to jump?” A soft voice called out to her, and the man in the poppy mask strolled closer, hands jammed deep in the pockets of his trousers. He’d tried not to startle her, so as to not make the choice for her, but it wouldn’t truly bother him if he had. People were going to die anyway- even if she wasn’t fated to die downstairs with the rest, she’d die one day. What did it matter if it was now or later?
“It feels like flying for a little bit. Then it doesn’t, but, yaknow, that’s the risk you gotta take.”
Cracking a small smile, he easily stepped up to the barrier beside her, leaning over so he could get a better look at the ground directly below them. A few cop cars were shining their lights, flashing red and blue to direct traffic around the line of cars waiting to park in the ballroom’s parking garage. None of them had looked up yet to see the two figures standing on the edge of the building, looking for all intents and purposes as if they were about to jump to their deaths. It must have been ten stories above the ground; not enough to make them invisible to someone watching from below, but certainly enough to snap a neck or two.
“Are you scared? I’ll go first, if you want.” It was a kind offer, in his mind. “But before I do, you got anymore of what ya took from that purse?”
Beneath the brilliant, glinting red of his mask, his mouth pulled itself into an easy grin. Hypnos was trying to look more at ease than he felt- it was almost like he was sick, like he’d caught some sort of human illness that was churning his stomach and making his head spin. But that was impossible.
