~o~
The screams and blaring music pounded inside her head. Multi-colour lights flashed across the wall, making her vision swim. Red, purple, blue, green. Faces and bodies splashed with light, painted one colour for one still moment, and then another the next. Like one flesh, like a constantly shifting mass. In the space between one colour ending and the next beginning, it was for a moment, completely taken into the shadow, its location unknown.
Destiny Pletiez stood off to the side. Empty, red cup in her hand. She’d been waiting for Jose to come out of the bathroom so that they could go outside together, but it’d been too long. He had surely wandered off. Distractible and forgetful on a good day, so here— she would have to go find him.
Stumbling, she makes her way to the bathroom, needing to check if he’s still there first. Bodies blink into and out of view, and moving between those pockets of light and dark, she sometimes forgets where her body is. Her sense of position in space is shot for a moment, before the lights flash on again and give her one single dizzying, confusing, contradictory look at her environment, before blinking out again, and the cycle repeats. She stumbles her way through more bodies, and Destiny’s certain she’s bumped into quite a few people, before she ends up in a quieter part of the party near the bathroom.
She goes to wade through the shallows towards it, when Franklin Rosas comes rushing in from the direction of the [hallway], cutting a path through the thinner crowd that goes right next to her.
"Franklin!”
Franklin almost trips over himself stopping, and his hands tighten on the straps of his heavy backpack, no doubt filled with complimentary items from the host and fellow guests that he always took from parties. He glances behind Destiny, to where she was before, to where he was going, and then glances back at her.
"Yeah?” He shifts on his feet and his mouth twitches, his tone is clipped. His tone is clipped and his eyes never stay on Destiny for long, and there’s a faint furrow to his brow. Destiny curls her hand into a fist for a moment before uncurling it. Just because he might be in a hurry doesn’t mean he gets to act like that to her. She’s got stuff to do as well, and you don’t see her acting like she doesn’t have time for him.
Destiny inclines her head towards the bathroom, “Have you seen Jose? He was supposed to meet with me after going to the bathroom, but it’s been a while. I was going to check, but I figure he just wandered off. Have you seen him?”
Franklin stills, eyes going hazy, clearly thinking hard. Then, he tilts his head, and the haze retreats to the background, a new sharpness entering his eyes, “...Yeah. I think I saw him going into the house office. It’s upstairs, down the hall, last door to the right. Can’t miss it. It’s been a while, but I think he’s still there.”
"Okay, thanks Franklin.”
Franklin scurries off past Destiny to where he was going before.
Destiny stepped over the plush, red carpet laying on the floor and draping over the stairway. Her feet sunk into it, and yet it didn’t feel luxurious at all. It was as if a thin layer of grime was trapped beneath its surface, the veneer once matted into the carpet’s fibres now freely smearing itself onto her shoes. She could almost feel the tackiness in how her steps moved across the carpet, could almost feel the stickiness on the bottoms of her feet.
She moved up the stairs, and the faux wood barely creaked under her heels. Higher and higher she climbed, hands gliding over the peeling white paint on the railing, the sounds of the party becoming muffled and quiet. She felt a great pressure leaving her head, like a diver rising to the surface of the water, giving her the impression of exiting one world and entering another one.
As she stepped into the hallway the party completely faded into something vague and fuzzy. It was quiet enough she could hear her heart pick up. She was completely away from the prying eyes of the party, but that did mean by its description that she was somewhere it could not watch. Slipping into an empty pocket of space devoid of the tangible fabric woven by the cheering and blaring and dizzying lights, there was no one there to keep track of her.
She crept down the hall, and she was struck and impressed by how quiet she was without trying. She walked down many floors, dirt and leaves and concrete and linoleum, practice, practice, practice, progress clearly marked by how automatic her skills were, obvious in how simply she tread over something as easy as carpet. Progress obvious. But how well would she fare with an actual challenge?
She crept without trying, and reached the last door to the right. Light filtered through underneath, but moving shadows cut through it. There was shuffling on the other side, what might’ve been some swears, a thud as a heavy object was set down. And the crinkling of a plastic bag— Crinkling, Crinkling, Crinkling, of a large, black, trashbag, although this one was sure to be too thin. Destiny’s breath hitched.
She put her hand on the cold metal doorknob, hoping the noises on the other side masked the slight clacking it made as she did so. It was shiny, and silver, and completely spherical, and she knew from seeing these kinds of doorknobs a hundred times before that the handle looked the same on the other side.
She slammed open the door quickly, the single, white light bulb perfectly illuminating the room in sharp relief.
In the centre of it all, laid out on thin garbage bags, was a body. Its back and neck were arched at an awkward angle, and its stiff body refused to lay flat on the ground. Small blemishes lay across its skin like a battered and overripe fruit. Its eyes looked slightly crumpled in, like the skin covering a runny yolk, like milk in a pot when you skim the top after simmering. Its eyelids looked purple from where it stared, unseeing, at a wall.
Jose stared up at her from where he was hunched over it, eyes blown wide and skin clammy, frozen, while Abigail looked over at her as if punched from the back of the room.
Destiny blanched.
~o~
The bathroom was way nicer than Jose would’ve thought by this hour, and after raiding the cabinet below the sink and helping himself to the fancy soaps, he sauntered out.
The party was loud, loud, as it washed over him, and it kinda made him want to join all the dancing lights and jump right back into the fray. He was sure he saw wisps of smoke [tangling/billowing] around everyone’s legs at the beginning of the night— but there’s nothing now, and there wasn’t much before. Maybe it’s broken? Maybe they’ll let him take a look at it?
The bathroom had held a tasteful shelf shaped like an ocean wave, sat above the sink which glimmered like the inside of a shell. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the bumpy, frosted window above the shower was tinted a cool blue colour, either. Jose wouldn’t have imagined the house had a themed bathroom at all, but why ocean? He didn’t know much about the host but he thought Pai…tience…? Was more of a football person. They had a swim team but Jose didn’t see her on it. Maybe she just didn’t like actually swimming. That’d be weird. Or maybe she just didn’t like pools. Or the people on the swim team. Or swimming competitive– okay whatever. (Maybe it was her parents who liked the ocean…?)
Good thing her parents were so chill. Jose thought they left for a week or something, but that they wouldn’t care if there was a party anyway, he thought? Thank god for that, no sneaking around needed. Why’d they leave, anyway. Was it a business trip? Were they big businessmen? The house did look a little rich. It was all clean and mall–looking. Or at least it looked like it was before the party happened. White rugs were a poor choice. Why was everything white anyway? It looked ugly. The house should look more like the bathroom. Where was he?
Jose stood in the kitchen. He rummaged through the cabinets for a moment for anything potentially interesting. Finding nothing, he resigned himself to having a regular ol’ drink, instead of something fancy like a glass with a little umbrella or lemon slice. He grabbed a red solo cup and shuffled over to the punch bar in the dining room. Bodies crowded around every side, people playfully hitting one another and giggling and chatting. Everyone was so close together, that they jostled not only the table but each other, and Jose let himself be swayed back and forth by the movements of the party.
He grabbed a ladle and dunked it inside a large, glass bowl. The edges were carved like ruffles, and the body was dotted with some pattern he could not discern, obscuring the view of its contents from the side. Jose pulled it out, making dark red flakes of something and cherry stems swirl around in the bowl. He poured one long, long, continuous stream, dark red liquid suddenly glowing like [red thing that’s a lighter shade] when it caught the [hallway] light.
Jose walked out to the foyer, where the throngs of people were. The heart of the party from which its veins spread, the stragglers and small groups, not able to contend with the size of the main group. He saw someone walk down the stairs, which made him realise that he had yet to go upstairs, too distracted partying there with Franklin, Abigail, and then only Destiny, after they rest left.
He jogged up the stairs, and immediately entered the first door to the left. It was a bedroom, all cream coloured with a goddamned curtain-covered bed. There were three people there already, who all looked at him once he entered, so he just did a quick once over before ducking out, saying he got the wrong room. It was the same situation in the right door, even the bedroom looked the same, only mirrored, and Jose ducked out just as quickly.
It wasn’t all the same, though. On his third door was a bedroom that actually looked lived in, and more importantly had no one there. With three quick strides he made his way over to a mahogany drawer that sat next to a rumpled bed. Jose picked up a picture frame from the top and looked it over. It was a photo of Patience and her parents at the beach. Blue swim caps covered their heads as they stood smiling at the camera, with Patience’s dad’s arm outstretched to hold it. They stood right in front of where the ocean met the sand. The picture frame was adorned with fake seashells and starfish. Jose guessed she just didn’t want to join the swim team specifically, then.
He put it down again and rifled through the drawers, skimmed through the comics he found there, shook around some snowglobes and played around with a stapler. Under the bed he found a penny board, and rode the short distance from one wall to the next before putting it away again.
He continued like this for a short while, hopping from room to room and seeing what he could find, messing with books and figurines and [], before he reached the end of the hall and found himself in a home office. There was a large desk in the centre of the room, with a spinning chair behind it, facing the door. There were some papers scattered on the top, and a turned off lamp on the corner. Jose walked over to it, turned it on, and started examining the papers. They seemed to be audits, but underneath was also what seemed to be the test papers of a magazine.
Jose started going through the drawers underneath the desk, which luckily weren’t locked. It was mostly boring, fidget toys and stationary, but in the centre was a sleek, grey laptop. Jose placed it on the desk and opened it up. Unfortunately, and like he expected, he was met with a prompt for the password for one “Ron [Lastname]”. He fiddled around with the trackpad before getting sick of that and searching the drawers again for a mouse.
He wondered if he could get in. Probably not, but if he was lucky the password could be something simple like “password”. The laptop was large, and looked pretty new. He wondered if it was company issued or one “Ron” bought himself. If it was company issued, it may have some protections against using foreign bootable media, so Jose wouldn’t be able to just plug in his bootable usb and hijack the laptop for a bit. Still, it might be useful to bring his usb to parties from now on in case he runs into anymore laptops…
The rattle of the door handle turning was Jose’s only warning before the door was slammed open. He jumped, whipping around to face the noise.
"I found you!”
A person stood in the doorway as they glowered down at Jose.
"Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” They mocked, leaning forward as they clutched one hand on the doorframe. Their face twisted into a sneer, “Caught you right in the act!”
Jose bristled, “What are you talking about?”
The person scoffed “Oh you gotta be kidding.” They crossed their arms and straightened back up, standing solidly in the doorway. “Bet you thought no one’d notice all the stuff going missing. Well I did. I’ve been chasing you all night.” Their eyes narrowed, “And now I found you.”
Jose stood up and rounded around to the side of the desk. He hissed, “You better mind your own business, I haven’t done anything wrong.”
They had an expression of disbelief on their face, as if they were the one who couldn’t believe his audacity or something, “You were literally going through that desk when I came in.”
"I was just looking, idiot. Is that a crime?” He growled. “I wouldn’t actually steal anything, I’m not stupid.”
They looked down at Jose with disgust, “Like I’d believe that. But even if that was what you were doing, that’s just as terrible!”
Jose rolled his eyes at them. Fucking typical, goody–two shoes over here is trying to lecture him, as if they didn‘t come in here screaming at him. “If they want to bring strangers into their home, then they have to accept that someone might look through their stuff. They can’t not do that and still expect nothing to happen. They can’t have their cake and eat it too. If they didn’t want their stuff to be touched, then they shouldn’t have thrown a party.”
They glared at him, “The fucking nerve–”, before he knew it, they had already stomped towards him and shoved him. The goddamn brat looked at him with a sort of righteous anger, and Jose knew that they were getting drunk off the feeling of being on the “moral high ground”, the “right” side, looking down at him from their goddamned high horse.
Jose shoved back “Oh fuck off you cunt! If you wanna play hero so bad, you better be ready to fight like one!”
With indignant eyes they swung like Jose knew they eventually would. He dodged to the right and pivoted around to shove them right back. But they dodged as well, leaving Jose to trip over his own momentum and sprawl against the desk. He whipped his head around quickly, only to see them already wound up to swing another punch. Their eyes blazed with the satisfaction Jose felt when [comparative event], when you finally take down the beast, when the villain lays on the floor and the flowery wreath is about to be placed around your neck in congratulations. Jose felt his fingers curl around the cool, smooth plastic of the heavy-duty laptop.
In the next moment, Jose swung up before they could ever follow through with the punch. The laptop hit the bottom of their chin, knocking their head back in a single, decisive arc.
~o~
Franklin Rosas had a problem. He leaned against the wall while subtly looking over the crowd. He tried not to feel too embarrassed at having been reduced to playing cat-and-mouse by some meddlesome scoundrel.
The night had been going just swimmingly. Franklin had strolled right into the party with a large, empty backpack with no problems, and similarly had no problems slipping things into it, gracefully avoiding detection. Just like always, things had been going great.
Until that fool stuck their nose into things.
Things had steadily been going missing from the house, Franklin doing an excellent job of avoiding people’s sight, as always. But it seemed that this night was different, since it clearly had other ideas. Because unfortunately, this time, someone actually took notice.
Franklin had just been casually strolling around the house, scouting out his next mark, when a conversation from behind floated over to him.
"Yeah, dude– I swear. Things have been going missing all night.”
Franklin froze in his tracks, heart going very still, before beating faster than it had before. He carefully unstuck himself, like [carefully] twisting the limbs of a doll whose arms had jammed in its sockets, and did his best to resume his previous, casual stroll. He made his way towards the nearest wall, hoping he hadn’t strayed too far, and leaned against it. Franklin took out his phone, held it in front of his face, and turned toward that conversation. His eyes stared back at him from where the black, glossy screen was held next to that stranger.
"At first I thought I was imagining it. But I asked the guys why the fog stopped, and they said that after Malt took it away to fix it, the machine went missing when she left to get a drink!”
"What?”
"Dude, no way!”
"Poor Malt.”
Their hair was curly, and some of it was pulled into a loose ponytail on the top of their head, while the rest fell down to their shoulders. A neon yellow bandana hung around a toffee neck. Their nose wrinkled in distaste, lifting their lip and revealing sharp, yellow teeth. Mounting frustration pooled in their dark, dark eyes.
They shook their head, “It just isn’t right. I’d keep my eyes peeled if I were you. Watch your pockets– I’m going to find that thief!”
"Alright.”
"Be careful!”
"Catch you later, Kou!”
They strode off. Franklin’s eyes couldn’t follow them long before they were swallowed by the crowd.
He stayed where he was for a moment, finger still tapping listlessly at the screen, but eyes no longer flicking to the right.
He put his phone back into his pocket, and walked off into the opposite direction, letting the shadows and swaths of people consume him.
Franklin kept much closer watch of the crowd from then on, keeping an eye out for any glimpse of curly hair or yellow bandanas. Fortunately he had found out what they were doing before they started searching, instead of when they caught him. Unfortunately again however, Franklin had only found out via a conversation where they had told others that things were being stolen! They even told them to keep a look out, no less!
This introduced an unfortunate new element: While Franklin knew he was definitely being [hunted] by that guy, they may not be the only one. Even if he didn’t spot them, someone else might get him. Franklin would have to be very careful not to be seen as he took from the house.
And so, it continued like that for a while. Franklin did his best to know roughly where they were at all times, so that he could stay as far away from them as possible, but there were still a few near misses. Franklin realising they were in the room with him just as he was about to scoop something up, Franklin making stray eye contact with them when he entered a room he didn’t know they would be in, and having to fake something to do so it didn’t look like he turned tail as soon as he saw them.
[His feelings regarding being chased like this, and what leads him to ultimately deciding to continue to steal until the party ends.]
All of which led Franklin to where he was now, leaning against a wall in the foyer, not willing to make a move until he knew where that person was.
This story was originally a project for school, wherein you'd write the name of the story, the characters, and a sentence long summary, and then swap your story with somebody else's and write theirs.
The original prompt for The House Party is as follows:
1) House Party
2) Destiny pletiez 17 years old
Jose Garcia
Frank(n) Rosas
Abigail Sandoveu
3) This story is about a friend group that had a long night at a house party and it lead to a huge disaster and the night ended very unspeakably.
I planned the whole story out, so I may release the plans later. Even if I do end up writing the rest, I don't believe knowing what happens ahead of time ruins a story. A good story will be fun to read regardless. It simply changes the way you experience a story.
Which is why I still put spoiler tags; while both experiences can be good, they are undoubtedly different, so I'd like to give readers a choice.