Pass the Nirvana

I don't belong here.

The thought kept circling in my head: this just - wasn't my scene. Liv looked over at me with a wicked grin, her hands falling from the driver's wheel; I could feel the bass of the music from where we were parked, somewhere midway down the massive driveway leading to the mansion.

And it really WAS a mansion. There had to be at least three stories, complete with towering windows that let through bright, undulating flashes of light. Blue, pink, red, green caught in Liv's short, golden curls, and I swallowed hard, dropping my gaze firmly to the dashboard.

"God, Riles," she laughed, "you look like I'm going to fucking pimp you out."

"I - what -?" My face ran a bit cold, "Should I change? Do you have a shirt I can borrow? Fuck -"

Liv rolled her eyes, "I don't mean your clothes. Jesus. I mean the stare of abject horror you're giving me." I opened my mouth to object, but she kept going: "It's a house party, not a formal ball. You're going to be fine."

"It's not just a house party and you know that!" The words tumbled from my mouth with too much vigor. Liv raised a single perfect brow and my stomach did a strange little flip. "It's - it's. You know."

"Yeah, I know, it's being thrown by Little Prince Wylde." Liv sank back into her seat. The myriad of shining chains and jewelry hanging from her jingled every time she moved. "You're so insufferable about him. He's like, just some guy. And his dick isn't even that big." She opened the car door, her thigh-high heels making contact with the smooth pavement with a satisfying click. "C'mon, lil' puppy."

"I don't need to know that," I half-whispered, glaring at her for a moment as she adjusted her outfit - a shiny, lowcut halter top with all sorts of sequins, and a deep blue skirt to match. The whole thing was too tight, but in the way that was supposedly fun and sexy: and, well, yeah, she looked incredible. Liv turned and shot me another smile, gesturing for me to follow.

I got out of the car, smoothing out the burgandy dress Liv had helped me pick. It was - nice, sure, falling to my mid-thigh and rising into a turtleneck, but the whole thing clung close to my frame. Moving felt ... weird. Sitting felt weirder.

There were a few others out in the driveway - some kids I recognized from class, most I didn't. Some of them were just pulling up. A guy with black hair was smoking a cigarette. A small circle by a red Volkswagon were passing around a blunt. One guy was sleeping in a multicolored hammock tied to the entryway. No one seemed to take any real note of me as I followed behind Liv up to the front door.

I guess I expected her to knock, but she just swung the door wide and stepped in. The smell hit me first - sharp and sort of pungent; the loud, indistinct music suddenly snapped into clarity and the lights spilled out onto all of us standing there on the porch. I took too long to step over the threshhold (not supposed to be here not supposed to be here) - so Liv grabbed my wrist and pulled me through.

All of the lights were flashing at once; I could feel myself moving as Liv kept tugging me, but it was like traveling through a film with missing frames. Every half-second, we were plunged into thick, impenetrabale darkness, and I was stumbling into stranger's backs and sides - someone put their hands around my waist, their fingers trailing along my sides as I was within reach for only a moment. It made my skin crawl.

It was humid from the amount of moving bodies packed into this place. I got the sense that the room we were in was truly huge, but my brain couldn't make sense of the angles; I caught glimpses of a massive stairway, some folks moving up and down the center of it, others sitting there on the sides of the step sipping from red solo cups. Liv stopped moving, and I caught myself right before ramming into her back. She lifted her hand and started waving, as trapped as I was in those flashing lights; I tried to follow her gaze, landing on a dark figure up at the top of the stairs.

It was a beanpole of a person - I could tell even with the huge fur coat (at least, I assume it was fur) draped around their shoulders. Their frame was elegant, dark hair cascading down shoulders like a veil.

Liv opened her mouth and called out a word I couldn't hear over the music. The figure waved back - paused for a moment, taken off-guard by something - and started moving down the stairs.

Fuck. Fuck, this wasn't good. My fingers reached down to curl around Liv's, moving her hand from my wrist to firmly in my palm, and I squeezed, leaning into her ear. "I thought the plan was to make sure he *didn't* see me."

"I only said that because it was the only way to convince you," Liv whisper-shouted back. "You think he's gonna kick you out or something?"

"Yes! This is like - EXCLUSIVE!"

She giggled then, turning to take my other hand in hers. "Babygirl. That's just what rich people say to make you feel special for being here. You think fucking Davey is the height of popularity? You think Max sent him a personal invite? Or d'you think he just showed up, too?"

My memory wandered to the man in the hammock. Davey - I had been friends with him when I was younger. Well, 'family friends', which I learned was different from actual friends you go out and make on your own - family friends don't sit with you at lunch after fifth grade.

"Davey gets bitches," I said firmly. "You get bitches. Everyone here gets bitches."

"Well, that's why people come, isn't it?"

Liv and I turned towards the slight rasp - I did my utmost to school my face into one of perfect neutrality, while Liv's smile lit up warmly.

The Crown Prince of Burlington. The single most popular kid in school. Potential secret son of a Russian Oligarch in hiding or some shit. Rumors and stories followed Max Wylde like a coat; he had all the makings of an actual celebrity. He wasn't like Liv - no - she was treated like royalty at school, all sticky-sweet bitchiness and good looks, but after the bell, she went home to her trailer park, to her shitty mom and angry dad, or to the old treehouse my mom had made years ago. All of Liv's pomp and mystique falls away when she's with me.

Max, though? That mystery never fell away, with *anyone.* He leaned against the bannister, blue eyes flickering from me to Liv and back again.

"It's always good to see you, Olivia," he said after a pause that felt like a year. He looked to me again, his smile - different. More tense, like I'd somehow caught him offguard. "Hi, Riley."

The way he said my name was deliberate. Not ... angry, but careful. His eyes immediately darted back to Liv, giving her a searching glance I can only take a guess at translating: why the *fuck* is she here?

He knew my name. That itself was disheartening. I opened my mouth to say something - anything - to try and convince this boy I wouldn't start talking about Bigfoot or aliens or any of the other shit that I was known for, that I could be trusted to have a very normal time, but Liv beat me to the draw.

"Maaaax!" she moved, pulling him close into her arms. "Always good, baby."

They lingered there for a moment, and the way Liv relaxed into his arms made a vague worry rise that she wouldn't keep her 'no hookups, just for tonight' promise. Max pulled away then, turning toward me. He just sort of stood there, watching me.

I floundered for a moment, before jutting my hand out to shake. "Um. Hi. I'm Riley. You know that." How did he know that? How did he know my name. Did Liv talk about me? She wasn't supposed to talk about me. Why was she talking about me? With the boy she'd been off-and-on again with for the past three semesters? The Max Wylde?

Max cocked his head, and he smiled at me - actually smiled, not a polite grimace. He reached, took my hand in his, and shook it firmly. "Um. Hi. I know. What the fuck is this, Riley. Are we at a business meeting?"

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a strained half-chuckle, half-cough thing. Liv was watching with a satisfied grin (she takes immense pleasure from my suffering - I'm like her little pet; a beetle she puts in a plastic ball and lets roam free in strange landscapes, a moth taken out of its enclosure and left to wander in the strange world of Humanity; lacking the capacities to understand the world around it, just existing, floating through-)

"You need a drink," Max declared, and I found myself nodding along. Who was I to defy the prince? He let go of my hand and I realized I had been holding my breath - I only had time to swallow down another gulp of air before his hand was on my back, guiding me up the stairs. A smaller hand with softer skin slipped into mine, and Liv caught my gaze. Another reassuring squeeze, and the three of us were off.

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