18.
“Valencia Delacroix,” Alex provides.
“And who, pray tell, is that?” Cigs questions.
“ See? ” he hisses in anguish. “Did you fucking see ?”
“Yes, Alex. We thankfully aren’t blind, so yes, we saw ,” Varsha tells him.
He rubs a hand over his face. “She said she loves riding pretty faces. And guys, she wasn’t even subtle about it! She used the exact same words to tell me that she wants to sit on my face! My utterly, irrevocably queer face!”
I choke on a laugh, then yelp when Cignette presses her heel against my shoe.
“Can you please elaborate?” she urges Alex. “Because I’m totally lost right now.”
He clicks his tongue. “Okay, so I was standing in a corner, minding my own fucking business. People watching and all that, and then , Valencia walked over, introduced herself, and we started having a really meaningful conversation. One topic led to another, and she suddenly started getting all touchy-touchy; started suggesting things that made me wanna douse my ears in steaming acid.”
“Why do these things keep happening to you when I’m not around?” Varsha wonders. “I always miss out on the best real-life content from you.”
Alex’s top lip curls upwards as he glares at her. “First of all: fuck you so very much , V. And second of all: I am not an outlet for your personal amusement. I am a human being with real feelings, so if you want drama, then go find it in Satan’s fiery motherfucking embrace.”
Before Varsha can reply to that, Cigs pops in and says, “I like to think dear Valencia is a gem, though. It’s such a shame she knocked on the wrong door.
But the least you could have done, Alex, is let her down slowly instead of keeping her daydreaming.
Christ knows what all is going through that ancient little head of hers right now.
If I were to accidentally see any of it, I’d need more than just acid to wash away the scars, that’s for sure.
” She bats her lashes and shakes her head, and Varsha looks so close to losing it that I have to avert my eyes from her in order to maintain my composure.
I roll my shoulders and push them back to get comfortable in the shirt Cigs picked for me.
It’s a little too tight for my frame, and while I find it suffocating, some of the guests here have found it appealing.
I keep getting checked out by the people around me, and I don’t know if it’s because of how the fabric sticks to my skin like fucking glue, or if it’s because Cigs insisted that I keep the shirt’s sleeves rolled up to my elbows, and its first 2 buttons open for a more, and I quote, “Romance book MMC” appeal.
I have no idea what the hell that means, but she wanted me to do it, and so, I did.
I don’t think I have to get into detail about how much of a dog I am for that woman, so let’s just move on instead.
Alex appears betrayed as he glares at Cigs, and I wanna laugh because, well, this is free fucking entertainment, and even though I’m a complete asshole for enjoying it, I can’t say that I’m not having the time of my life.
Alex widens his eyes and stares at me when I look at him. “ Well? ” he questions, clearly expecting me to pitch in and shoulder him in this conversation.
I glance at Varsha first, and then at Cigs, finding them both giving me very similar, very dangerous smiles. I’m talking Joaquin Phoenix in Joker kinda smiles. Truly spine-chilling shit, to be honest.
I clear my throat. “You know we love you, right, Alex?”
He’s got a poker face on as he continues to stare at me.
“We do ,” I continue, and instantly flinch because what the fuck is this ? And what is wrong with me? Better yet: what is happening right now?
“I can’t believe you’re the man I look up to,” Alex says theatrically, and when Cigs opens her mouth to get back to him on it, he points a finger at her.
“ Don’t .” He then narrows his eyes at her.
“For someone mocking me over an old lady’s rated-R thoughts about me, you sure didn’t think twice before letting your jackrabbit of a boyfriend give you a hickey where literally everyone can see it.
During an ongoing formal event, no less – while we’re on a mission . ”
Cigs puts her tongue to her cheek. “No one gives a shit about my hickey.”
“I do,” I state. “I fucking gave it to you.”
Alex gestures between Cigs the night’s still young.”
“If you do, it’d most likely be because of the Cabernet Sauvignon that’s still in your system,” Cignette jabs. “You’re an avid pisser when you have alcohol in your system.”
“Says the woman who can’t even hold her liquor.”
“Well, at least I warn people about it. And I’m not exactly subtle in my warnings either.”
Alex’s smile is razor-like as he directs it at her, while hers is just as sharp as she, too, smiles at him.
“Okay, so if you idiots are done cat fighting, can we please dig into these appetizers?” Varsha asks. “They’re not going to eat themselves, after all.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Alex sets the tray back down on the table, then grabs a tourtière from it before lifting it at us. “Cheers.”
With a chuckle, I bite into mine, but as soon as my teeth break into the airy crust on the outside, and my tongue makes contact with the meat-filling on the inside, I know that there is something very, very off about this tourtière.
But still, I eat it – mainly out of curiosity – only to cough when the unsavory taste of flesh takes over my tastebuds.
The meat itself is tough to chew on, and its texture is one that glides around my mouth in an uncomfortable sort of way.
But the thing that’s putting me off the most is the smell, especially after I swallow the piece of tourtière I was chewing.
It lingers on my breath, and not in a good way.
It’s familiar, and yet, I don’t know how to place it.
“Holy shit …” Varsha spits out the tourtière with a grimace, and next to her, Alex does the same, muttering, “Jesus Christ, what is this?”
I hear a noise to my left, and turn to see Cignette retching into her hand. I quickly grab a napkin from the table and open it before her, and she spews the contents from her mouth into it, then throws the rest of the tourtière that’s in her hand into the napkin as well.
Her brows are creased in confusion as she whispers, “ What the fuck is this? ” She then glances around frantically as a shudder rakes through her frame before all but running over to the refreshments table to her left.
She grabs a bottle of cranberry flavored sparkling water off it, and downs it in messy, desperate gulps.
“That, my lovely Cignette, is this .” Aras and Magner walk over to us, with the former holding a long, black rectangular board in his hands, which he places right in the middle of the appetizers table, then steps back and gives the 4 of us a sympathetic smile.
A Byron & Rajvansh Family Special
That’s what’s embossed on the board in golden, italic letters.
I throw the soiled napkin into the bin on the other side of the table. “And that’s supposed to be an explanation?” I say, then cough again because my God , the aftertaste of this is worse than its actual flavor.
Magner grabs 3 cans of ice-cold soda off the refreshments table. Handing 2 of them to Varsha and I, he then offers the remaining one to Alex, who all but snatches it from him, making him frown.