Participants:
Scene Title | Hot Mess |
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Synopsis | Peyton and Wendy have a girl's night out despite the awkward tension that's infiltrated their friendship since their kidnapping. |
Date | September 5, 2009 |
The pulsing beat of bass throbs through the walls of Rapture, a high-class nightclub in the heart of Harlem. Rows of expensive cars line up out front of the exclusive club and a crowd of would-be patrons wait outside, cherry-picked by the bouncers to have only the cream of the crop on the interior, while leaving just enough eye-candy outside to entice other patrons. The club serves as a respite for the trendy and the influential from the grind of daily life.
On the inside, Rapture is as much a spectacle as it is a structure. Multiple dance floors in tiered balconies overlooking an enormous central dance floor ringed by plush leather-upholstered booths. Pale blue light shines on the wrap-around bar that curved around the back of the establishment, and the entire building is filled floor-to-floor and shoulder-to-shoulder with the pulsing, flowing sea of people dancing to the rythmic beats of electronic dance music piped through the expansive sound-system.
It's been a few days since she's talked to Wendy, and she's still trying to make things right, or at least better, to her friend. After calling her up, they agreed to go for a girl's night out — this time at Rapture, staying far from Old Lucy's, and Peyton's arranged for a car to drive them there and back. No taxis!
"So I saw the article on your friend today," Peyton murmurs as they head toward the bar. "Have you talked to him? Is he doing all right?" She means Maxwell Quinn of course.
"Haven't heard from him. He just disappeared, I couldn't even get in to see him at the hospital. God, I thought he knew what he was right? I mean, it didn't occur to me to ask, I thought it was this big publicity stunt with the whole non evo playing an evo" Wendy's dressed up, impossibly tiny clutch that is opened and a tab of E passed over if the other girl wants it. A few tabs of other stuff in there too, but no glowing blue that marks anything as Refrain.
Peyton frowns down at the drugs — she hasn't been truly drugged or drunk since the night the three of them did Refrain at Wendy's. "I don't know," she says, picking it up and fingering it for a few moments. "I guess he was like me… walking around latent and not knowing it. Poor guy. He probably feels horrible." At least no one was injured when she manifested — just grossed out by blood-red vomit, thanks to the fruity cocktails she favors.
"Likely. I'll keep trying. Probably has his harpy of a agent screening shit" There's a glance to the pill in Peyton's hand then away. She'll take it, or not. Wendy slips the tab of E onto her tongue and lets it dissolve as she starts sidling towards the bar to get a drink. "Aaron had the audacity to show up at my place. Bearing wine and flowers"
The younger woman frowns, moving toward the bar as well. "I know. He told me," she says in a small voice. She was hoping Wendy wouldn't bring it up, that she wouldn't hold anything Aaron said against her. "Just so you know, he jumped to conclusions that I never led him to, Wen. I told him it was your idea to get us out, and I never said anything was your fault at all, I swear." She's dressed in the usual club wear — a tiny slip dress, strappy shoes — heels, because you never know when they'll save your life!
"He's head over heels for you and because of that, the fucker's got blinders on. You can do no wrong, you're pristine and innocent in everything and i'm wendy of the big mouth who goes about blabbing. That it's all my fault we got carted off instead, you know, just plain sheer bad luck. Pey, he's an ass, I hope he treats you better"
"Head over heels? Please. The guy couldn't stand the sight of me until…" she thinks. "Well, I mean, I gave him a place to live. Gotta be nice to your landlady, especially when the rent's free, right?" She steps up onto a barstool and smiles at the bartender. "Merry Widow, please," she orders, then glances at Wendy. Her hand is still cupped around the little tab of E.
"Love struck little boys do what they did, bitch out the person they hold responsible for hte incarceration and near death of the the one they are simpering quietly in love with. He sure as fuck never called me to see if I was okay. Just stuck by your side. He's in love with you and he didn't even deny it when I told him. Enjoy your love nest while you can, if you can" Wendy orders up a zombie, looking out over the crowd gathered. 'Not many evo's today"
"Good. Don't want you passing out," Peyton says at the last, picking up the bright red drink and sipping it. Her brows furrow at the rest of it. Yes, he's been taking care of her, and vice versa, but that doesn't mean he's in love with her. "I don't think he's in love with me. There's nothing to love, nothing that someone like him would want." She sighs. "And he certainly wasn't in love with me when we got taken. If anything it's something that happened after. Maybe he's just confused. I'm the closest thing to a family he's had in a long time. That's love, like family love, but not in-love love."
"Bullllshiiiiiiit" Sing songed as her whitish drink is passed over, tab started with that little black credit card. Wendy raises her brows then looks back out towards the crowd. "I dont' see Logan here" She'd had an ulterior motive it seemed. "You'd like him. Can give you the high without the drawbacks of like, overdosing or it being detected by god knows what tests"
"That's a bonus. No hangovers or anything?" Peyton asks curiously. She looks around the bar, as she always does, for any sign of anyone resembling Bill or Davey or Danko or the Irishman — not that she could really see any of them in such a place as Rapture. "I'm sort of afraid to get … drunk, high, whatever," she admits.
"Nada. I kinda liked it. Didn't take off my need, god I really wanted refrain, but it took the edge off. Wanna just bottle him up" She's not looking for irishmen. "Well, take the tab, or not. But realyly Pey, you can't let your ability or your fear rule you. Life sucks if you do hmmm? Afraid to do shit because of what might or might not happen?
Peyton frowns a little and shakes her head, speaking in low tones, to ensure no one but Wendy can hear. "It'd be like if you knew something you liked, like say ice cream, would make you literally blind for some indeterminate amount of time. If my power manifests and I can't control it, I can't see what I'm looking at. I'll see something else. That's dangerous, if I'm somewhere besides home. Especially now."
"Then have you visited that suresh center yet?" Wendy winks at some guy across the room, content right now to let the music wash over her and listen to peyton talk.
"I actually did — I didn't tell you, I forget. Did you know that guy, the FBI agent that was at Old Lucy's, he's been kidnapped too," Peyton whispers. "These people told me that there." She downs half her glass, trying to wash away the fear that chills her when she speaks of Felix missing. "He's really hurt, and alone, in some cellar or something. At least we had each other." She sighs. "So many kidnappings right now. It's horrible." She shivers again, pausing to see through her driver's eyes for a moment, to check that he's still close, still just outside the door.
"It's very de rigeur. Have you told your new little friends about it? Maybe they can help save him too, he can join them and their merry band of.. whatever they are" There's a wrinkle of Wendy's nose and she looks down at her glass, pushing it back and signaling for a refill. "So, you're not partying, nto doing drugs, what are you doing these days other than… you know" there' a gesture to her eyes.
"Is it a bad thing to try to help?" Peyton says with a frown. "He tried to help us — he felt bad he didn't go with us, that night, and I'm sure he feels like crap he didn't keep us from getting in that cab. It's probably the same people who took him that had us." She pushes away her drink and reaches over to drop the tab of E back into Wendy's purse. "It's not all I'm doing, but it was you who told me your power was like being really good at something no one else can do. So now I'm using it, and that's a bad thing? I'm really confused." Her voice quavers a touch as she looks at Wendy, her dark eyes shimmering for a moment with tears.
God, whereas Aaron couldn't make her feel like shit, the wetness in Peyton's eyes, were sure doing a number. "God, i'm sorry pey, i'm being a bitch. No, it's good, it's good that you're using it. The more you use it, the better you'll get at it. I just.. I guess I just, I dunno." The tab of E is accepted back, clutch closed to hide it from sight.
"It's okay," Peyton assures Wendy. "I just don't know… my instincts are out of wack. Half of me says hide it, pretend it never happened, and then half of me is like, there's ways to help, and if I don't help, then… they really win, you know?" She reaches up with the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. "Man, I'm a mess. Anyway. I was kind of scared at that Suresh place, to be honest. I … how do they know people don't come in just to learn about all of us, and use it against us? How can they screen that?"
"You're a hot mess" Wendy points out. "And you don't. But it's a place for other evolves and hey, so far, there's no rumors of people being black holed or deep sixed so that has to count for something right?"
That's the second person to call her a hot mess lately. She's okay with hot, but Peyton isn't so happy with the word mess. "I guess. But I don't think it'll be long before they find out someone is murdered just for being Evo because someone lied about it and got into some class or meeting or something. It's a nice idea, but how do you separate the crazies from the people who need help?" Enough about that. "How's that art class going?"
"Probably have telepaths working there that like, buzz by people to weed out the crazies" Wendy points out. "It's an art class. I just supply the paint and canvas and tell them to paint what they feel embodies their ability. There' not a lot of people and i'm stuck with only on good weather days cause, it's not like I can actually go in the building" She points that out too. "You should come, try it out. It's free unlike other courses"
"Oh right, I didn't think about that. How do you keep from feeling all… catatonic?" Peyton says quietly. Even outdoors, if Wendy had too many Evolved near, it must be overwhelming. "And I can't even finger paint. Seriously." She shakes her head.
"I park my group on the ass end of the property and pray. I also don't do it on crappy weather days and I keep the class number to like 5, so that I have a safe buffer. If I have to go inside, I go in after the place has closed so there's less a chance of flopping like a fish and seriously, you'd be surprised, there's not much skill needed to paint. Gonna do painting this month, then next month, I think we'll carve plaster. So if you want in, sign up"
Peyton listens. "I'm sure there's more skill than you say or else it's going to look like a kindergarten on drugs, for me. Your stuff is really good, and I could never do anything like that, but then that's why you are an artist and why I'm a … nothing." She smiles though; she's at peace with this fact. "It's why I want to help a little, if I can, Wendy. I realized that I don't have anything important. You have your art and friends and family. I just… you and Aaron are probably my only friends, I realize that now. And you two hate each other, so yay?"
"No, I dislike aarons attitude. his little woe is me, peyton's worse off than you and your responsible for everything that happened to her. I hate him because he had the nerve and the stupidity to stick a needle full of a drug in my neck that sent me on a bad trip. What fucking person does that for revenge. I think he needs to grow up. That's waht I think"
"I know. I didn't say you didn't have reason to hate him," Peyton says with a sigh. "And you're not responsible for anything. Look, let's just not worry about that and let's not talk about him and let's just… be." She slides off the barstool. "Let's go dance and be carefree and dumb girls and pretend we don't have all these problems."
"Good, cause the E is kicking in and the other stuff" and the alcohol." The fresh drink is glugged down like it's water and she bounces off her own stool, giving a loud whoop. "Maybe we can get the DJ to spin only the songs we like hmmm?"