Wonderful Evening For Some (Open, Dance Hall)

Faith began to panic as she pulled her dress over her head, discarded clothes puddling around her feet on the bathroom floor. The dress fit -she had made sure to check and double check her size- but it was not that; it was more the fact that she was wearing a fancy, possibly expensive dress; an incredibly beautiful, perfect dress that she was completely in love with. That was the problem - she loved the dress, as an object on a coat hanger, something to stare at reverently. Wearing the dress, however, was a whole different ballgown. Especially when one factored in that she would be going to her first ever formal dance, with no idea how to act, no idea how to dance and no idea who (and if) she would dance with. Did the other girls at Highgrove have boyfriends or something? She had never noticed, but then again, she was hardly the most friendly.

"I can do this," she muttered to herself, before gritting her teeth and unlocking the cubicle door. After making sure her clothes were within sight, on the counter beside the mirror (she wasn't sure she would ever trust anyone not to steal her few possessions), she stared at her own reflection for an entire minute. And then opened her make-up bag and got to work.

A full hour and a half later, Faith felt that she was possibly ready for the dance - that was, if everybody else there was blind. She hated Christmas. She hated dances. She hated whoever had arranged the ridiculous festive event, and she especially hated whoever had decided that all residents had to attend. How ridiculously unfair was that? Surely, that was a violation of...something or other. It was going to be a horrible event. To make it even worse, there were only about five girls and ten, eleven, twelve boys; she knew that the guys would be desperate to get a dance with someone. And desperate or not, she didn't think they were going to go for her. She'd have to just sit and watch all the roommates have fun flirting and dancing and laughing with the boys...

Not that she would dance if asked, of course; it was just the principle of being wanted, Faith tried to convince herself.

Suddenly angry at the way she looked -how her hair wasn't quite right, how her scar showed through the thin layer of foundation, how she didn't wear the dress like the model in the catalog- Faith slammed her fist into her thigh, fairly hard, and walked out of the bathroom leaving everything in a pile. She would go back later to find it, kill some time before she had to spend the night listening to her roommates talk about what a wonderful evening they'd had. Feeling horribly resentful, she walked slowly towards the events hall, having a little trouble in the matching kitten heels but just about managing not to complete humiliate herself.

Face down, carefully avoiding contact with anybody else, Faith entered the events hall. She got away from the main door as fast as possible, only looking up to find out where the refreshments table. There weren't many others there, and she didn't stop to see if she recognized anybody, simply aiming herself for the drinks without acknowledging that anybody else was in the room. Ideally, she would get through the night without having to talk to a single soul. And so the worst Christmas party ever begins... she thought, pouring herself a large paper cup of presumably vile-tasting non-alcoholic punch.

The Dress: Clicky. (Imagine slightly longer than in the picture, so it's below her knees.)

The dress she picked for the formal arrived after the abysmal Group session with that bitch. At the time seeing the jewel-toned green dress did nothing for her mood, she simply let it sit on the top of her dresser in it's white garment box for the rest of the day, ignoring it, but the build up for the Christmas formal made her take a second look. She played with the flutter sleeves of her dress now uncovered form the tissue paper but not quite out of its box, while sitting on the bunk below hers. She kind of had two bunks now, Ellen avoided this one like the plague, then again she would have too, if she girl had attacked her like she did on the first night. She felt guilty about it, but she wouldn't take it back You had to be strong because nobody else was going to protect you. Besides, it always starts with a slightly justified hit or push, next thing you know you're a spineless doormat for whomever makes you bend.

Never again.

She wanted until after the other girls were dressed and ready before getting her dress, shift, stockings and shoes out. She changed out of her jeans and black t shirt and into the cream coloured shift and her shiny green stockings and black flats. she stood in the mirror trying to figure out her hair...with her snood gone that mean she had to improvise... it took her a moment to settle on simply spraying her hair with warm water and raking her fingers through to make soft ringlets that would hang down and cover her nape...she was to playing the part of Cinderella tonight; as the water evaporated her hair would shrink and, like the carriage turning into a pumpkin, her hair would return to its natural state and her slightly inflamed nape would be visible to all.

It was a mandatory dance though, so she sucked up up, gently dampened her hair and put in her dress smiling at how the green contrasted her skin and hair colour perfectly mid calf was a new length for her, she was use to hearing the fabric whisper against the floor as she walked.
Before she left Kizzy grabbed her school note book and ripped out a piece of lined paper, leaving Ellen a note on her bed.

She'd never had goose before, she supposed she liked it, better then turkey, she's tried that ages ago and it was always dry. Kizzy choose the dessert while for her single glass and much to her surprise finished it. it tasted nice, she did like sweet things. Once dinner was over she noticed an Exodus of students, either to the solarium, hallways or bathrooms, pretty much anywhere but the function hall...
which meant the best place to be secluded was likely there, going against the flow Keziah headed into the grand room and looked around in awe. It really was a nice touch even if she thought some of the staff were complete bastards, they really enjoyed this Christmas thing, or, they had the decency to pretend for the kids for whom this holiday had a meaning.

In stereotypical teenage fashion, Keziah was sat in one of the many empty chairs a along the perimeter, she liked the music enough the only problem was in her head, she knew exactly what Her Father would say about everything.

Her dress was too short, and whoreish, she looked like a plucked chicken because of her hair and dancing was a sin.
...Because dance is temptation made flesh, the lascivious gyrations of the body, moving in twain with another for all to see. Only a whore or a temptress would participate in such a vertical orgy. Dancing, Keziah, is a sin...

She knew he was full of garbage but that didn't mean she could yet convince herself to get out of her seat and move. She watched faith scurry to the punch bowl like a scarred rabbit and considered a drink he decided against it, letting her heels scuff against the polished dance floor.

It was nights like these that Remi viewed his problem as both a blessing and a curse. He wasn't going to be able to do anything with any of the girls here if he tried, but, that did make him pretty well immune from getting into trouble for having sex with anyone, even when he wanted to. When the problem was dealt with, he'd get to really have some fun with some of them, but for tonight, he'd just dance, chat and flirt, he supposed. Nothing too heavy, a chance to get to know the few girls who lived in this place with him. Smiling, he straightened out his jacket, took one last look in the (plastic, and rather cheap looking) mirror, and headed out of his dorm room.

Dinner was nice enough, though he didn't think much of the wine, predictably. It did serve to highlight just how few girls there were in this place though, it looked like there were two boys for every one of them. He could see some fights breaking out over that somewhere along the line, something he'd have to try and stay out of. Hopefully, things would even out soon enough, preferably before he ended up getting cured. Suppressing a smile at that thought, he polished off his goose (Far better than the wine, though he would admit the two went together quite well), and soon enough, moved on to the dance.

This was the part of the evening he'd been looking forward to, despite the uneven numbers. There was no sign of the girl with the bruised face he'd seen around, which was a shame, if no-one else did, he was planning on getting a dance in with her sometime, just to show her it wasn't all bad, at least, if she seemed to be upset about things. he wouldn't be at all surprised if she was, but supposed he shouldn't just assume things like that. Catching sight of Faith over by the punch bowl, he smiled again and headed over, getting a paper cup of the suspicious liquid for himself. At least no-one was going to spike it here.

"Bonsoir Mademoiselle" he said to her, well aware of exactly how cheesy it was, and flashing her a grin. "Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, before taking a sip of the drink and letting his eyes drift over the dancefloor for a moment. "Would you care for a dance?" he asked, looking back to her and smiling. She didn't look happy, at all, and he wasn't entirely sure why. "You look great." he added, before finishing his drink and setting the cup down on the table. Faith first, then that girl in green, then the bruised one, if she made it in here. Hopefully, none of them were going to hate him for that, but with girls, who knew?

Faith jumped as somebody came up behind her, spinning round quickly and relaxing when she saw a familiar face. She'd met Remi before, briefly, and he hadn't seemed too bad - not as intimidating as he appeared at first sight. She smiled at him as he poured a glass, still taking a step away to maintain some distance but not making it a huge deal. She didn't mind Remi too much. He was better then the boy that killed hamsters - despite never even speaking to him, Faith was absolutely terrified of bumping into him in an empty corridor.

"Bon-whatever, hi," she replied, never having paid much attention in French class. She thought he was nice; cheesy, but sweet. He seemed the sort of person she would consider a friend, if only he were female. Faith couldn't quite rule out the idea that he had unpleasant intentions, simply on behalf of his gender. "I think it's quite a nice evening." A diplomatic response. "Nothing special, but...not too terrible." She felt quite content, standing and talking to a boy like a normal girl. It was pleasant; there was no pressure, it was safe with adults everywhere, everything was going fine...

...and then he asked her to dance.

Instantly, Faith went scarlet. "I...I...no," she said abruptly. "I don't want to dance." Settling her almost full cup on the table, with enough force that a little bit spilled, she walked away furious without waiting to hear his reply. Asking her to dance, after being so sweet, acting like they were friends... It should have been obvious. Of course he just wanted a shag; what else should she have expected from a teenage boy, especially a crazy one? He was disgusting. Faith wasn't too sure if he had been asking her because he wanted to get into her pants, or because he wanted to laugh at her scar. They both seemed equally horrific to her.

She had walked right into the middle of the dance floor to get away from Remi, and in horror, she backed away. What would that look like, to him? Changing direction, she saw Kizzy and instantly headed towards her roommate, not wanting to be left alone and vulnerable where he could approach her again. Quickly sitting besides the other girl, she nervously tapped her fingers on the chair. "That...that c*** just asked me to dance," Faith spat. "Fucking hate him." Asking a girl to dance (even at an actual dance) was on the same level as murder, judging by her reaction.

Shaking her head, Faith looked at Kizzy. "Do you...you know, have a boyfriend?" she asked. "Are you going to dance? Your dress is really nice, by the way..." She was trying to make conversation with a girl she barely knew, and the awkwardness was evident.

She wasn't used to sitting for so long and her rear was starting to numb...shifting for one cheek to the other was not helping much either. Keziah could see other girls and boys standing awkwardly against the walls as if some magnetic force has pulled them to it, or like branches stacked to be chopped into firewood. Would that make the therapists here woodsmen? Kizzy wondered idly looking down at her black flat shoes, they were shiny and she could see a distorted version of her face in the toebox. the room was so very festively decorated, she liked watching the baubles and bits illuminated by the Christmas lights.

She saw a very dark boy enter the function hall, she'd seen him at dinner too but she didn't know his name and they didn't have chores together so perhaps they sat in the same classes? No. She'd have recognized him, he was the only other black here, and the only one darker then her, not that she had much colour but his was so smooth, it was like ebony, or really finely milled dark chocolate. Then again he was really tall, maybe he was in his last year and that was why she didn't know him, lucky bastard. This was all little but a meaningless appreciation of an attractive form. Something most normal teenagers felt when they saw someone they could find attractive, this boy, from afar at least, didn't seem as willowy, depressed, creepy, or psychotic as the others Keziah had encountered so far and it was unfortunately turning her mind to things she tried not the think of.

He stopped at the punch bowl and Keziah watched the exchange between him and the blonde-- her dormmate Faith-- everything seemed alright, then she was roughly dropping her cup on the table and storming off... Weird. She stormed towards the dance floor, then ...fuckfuckfucknotherenot--damnit. she managed not to act like a shit when the girl was obviously using her as a shield.

Keziah blinked at Faith, sometimes she wondered about these blonds.... "Well it kinda is a dance." and cracked her neck gently, "bit of the point, isn't it? Was he weird or creepy about it?" Faith was just rambling, the stilted nervous quality of her voice was a evident as the cold air outside, and while it was a bit annoying she wasn't going to get seclusion or a private threat/talk with Bjorgen for shoving her or something, "Thanks, it was from the catalouge they gave us a few weeks back for the formal...yours is nice too." This was weird, didn't she hate this girl not too long ago? Well she kinda still did but there was no reason to be a complete cunt about it tonight. Kizzy tightened the fist Faith couldn't see...trying not to pull at her hair. A boyfriend, her, a boyfriend? did she look like a whore? but Kizzy stopped herself. She thought about boys but there was just this block about it. "...No I don't have a boyfriend." she didn't think of boys in that way...much...often...

Damnit.

That was...not the reaction Remi had expected. He'd only wanted a quick dance, it wasn't like he'd propositioned her or anything, why had she gone storming off like that? Shaking his head, he retrieved and refilled his cup, taking another sip of it. Maybe English girls were just like that? Or maybe he'd just picked a real crazy to try and talk to. She hadn't seemed that bad the last time they'd met though. Maybe she was dance-phobic? That, or she was just plain crazy. Neither would really surprise him with a reaction like that to a simple invitation. Taking another sip, he let his eyes wander across the rest of the room, glancing back to Faith once she'd sat down.

Well, that figured. She'd gone ahead and sat down next to the other girl he'd wanted to dance with. That didn't exactly leave him with a lot of options, so with another shake of his head, he finished his drink and instead helped himself to some nibbles from the buffet table. Hopefully, some of the other girls would be along shortly, and he'd actually be able to get his dance tonight. If not, well, there was always valentines day, right?

Faith couldn't help but frown. Well, maybe dancing -at a dance- was...expected, encouraged, even, but she hadn't thought that she'd be asked to dance. She had thought that she'd sit at the sidelines and watch everybody else having a good time, and Remi had thrown her. "He was very polite," she muttered in reply, "but...you know." It occurred to her that Kizzy probably didn't know, because she was making no sense, and she sighed in annoyance. "I just don't want to dance. And didn't think that he'd want to, either, right?"

Barely listening to Kizzy's reply to the questions she had fired off, Faith sat thinking about Remi. She had been rude to him, when he hadn't really done anything - maybe he wanted to sleep with her (although she didn't think that was too likely) but it didn't mean she would have to, after one dance. But did he want to laugh at her? Trying to resist biting her fingernails, a habit Bjorgen had almost scared her out of, Faith eyed Remi from across the room. Was he really like that? She barely even considered the idea that maybe he was a nice, normal boy who had no ulterior motives.

Abruptly, she stood up, not responding to anything her roommate had said. "You're right, it is a dance," she was speaking more to herself than Kizzy. Slowly, she crossed the room back to the punch table where Remi was still standing, sipping another drink. "I think," she said shyly, "that I might want to dance, after all. If you would." It wasn't an apology for her rudeness, or anything near one, but it was a start. If only he would accept; rejection after having rejected him a few minutes before, would have been ridiculously embarrassing.

Faith wasn't actually too sure how to dance, nor what sort of dancing was expected. Was it like people did in clubs, or was it formal, ballroom dancing? It didn't really matter. She'd never done either sort, and she didn't really think that she'd be very good at it. Hopefully, Remi would be awful too, so she wouldn't look as bad by compassion. "I don't think I can actually dance, though," she admitted quietly, staring at Remi's shoes. "I've never...you know, done it before." Aaand that came out wrong. Nice one, Faith.

She knew Faith would go back after she was reminded this was a dance. thought not much of one, there was far more boys then girls here, and there weren't many boys in the function hall... the blond went on about the obvious, of course the boy hadn't been rude, as Faith went on Keziah watched him, he first looked puzzled--what she assumed to be puzzled-- shook his head and went about nibbling. Keziah wasn't much for most academic pursuits, but she knew human nature, she knew how predators and general bullying arseholes conducted themselves, it was how she survived. Had that boy been one of those types, Faith's storming off would have ruffled his ego, he would have risked the ire of staff to let her and everyone else know he was not to be fucked with, and that scenario only accounted for Faith being truly lucky. The worse kinds were the ones who knew when and how to wait for the perfect moment to strike, the ones who left fare more than bruises and scars, who put an indelible mark on one's very being.

The type who had enough control over his child that even the passage for two years still had her sitting in a chair scuffing her heels, just in case he magicked himself into the facility and saw her participating in something he disapproved of. Keziah flicked her pretty fluttery left sleeve to knock away a bit of tinsel that managed to land there, "it's a dance, he's a boy, probably one of the few straight ones he--" before she could finish the thought Faith was up and gone. Kizzy very carefully took her journal out form under her. She'd been sitting on and carrying the thing all night, despite there being a party she didn't like leaving it alone, somebody could read it, or worse, let other people read it and she could not take that again.she stroked the brown cover and let her fingers run along the blue and silver woven design as it ran down the side of the cover. Later.. She's write about this that evening when the school was slumbering once more and everything was back to school, chores, and endless therapies. Kizzy stood and placed the journal on her seat and lowered herself back down once more, scuffing her heels in time to the next song as it played.

Remi wasn't expecting Faith to come back at all, especially not so soon, but he got the surprise off of his face after a few seconds, instead giving the girl a smile. "Of course I'll dance with you." he replied, wondering if she just needed to be the one to ask about these things. Control issues could be what landed her in this place, for all he knew. As she continued, he gave a small laugh, still smiling. "A virgin, eh?" he said, his accent as strong as ever, a mischievous smile on his face. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." he added, laughing a little more as he reached to take her hand.

He wasn't planning on anything too complicated, just a nice, slow dance to whatever the DJ cared to put on next. Faith was new to this, and while he'd been to a few formal dances before, and even a couple of lessons, he was more than a little rusty after his stay in the UK. "Shall we?" he asked, giving her a gentle pull towards the dance floor. "Don't worry, we can stop whenever you like if you don't like it." he added, giving her a soft, friendly smile. No sense in pressuring her into anything, he just wanted her to enjoy it as much as he would. Who wouldn't like dancing with a pretty girl? Hopefully, he'd get to try with her friend afterwards too. She looked so cute, wallflowring on her own, he had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Faith.

Faith looked up with a hint of surprise in her eyes when Remi agreed. She hadn't actually thought that he'd go along with; it seemed more likely that he'd just laugh at her and walk away, rather than accepting her offer with a smile. Did he actually want to dance with her, or had he just picked the nearest girl? Telling herself to stop wasting the night with ridiculous, paranoid thoughts, she forced herself into making eye contact with the boy, smiling at him weakly. "Awesome," she told him, trying to make her voice sound enthusiastic rather than terrified.

Turning a brilliant red as soon as he said the word virgin -why had she used such a ridiculous phrasing? it had made her sound like a complete idiot- Faith opened her mouth to tell him off, closing it abruptly when Remi took her hand. Was that normal, the boy holding the girls hand? What was she meant to do? She wished that she had some warning prior to the touchy-feeley stuff starting; it was a bit late to rub her hands on her dress to check that they weren't sweaty. Completely overwhelmed, Faith let Remi tow her along, nodding when he invited her to dance.

It wasn't like her to be so quiet, and she frantically thought of something she could say - something witty, something funny, something - well, just, anything! Anything was better than staring at Remi's chest in complete silence. "I'm not a virgin," she blurted out. "I am at dancing. Not at the other kind. I mean..." Amazing at her own level of ridiculous, inappropriate, random choices of conversation to bring up, Faith kept her eyes facing down, waiting for Remi to do something. Was he supposed to take her hand to dance, or was it not that sort? She let him take control of the dancing side of things, avoiding his gaze studiously as she thought over their night together. She had rejected him, then asked him to dance, then told him private details about her sexual life that she rarely cared to share. What is wrong with you!?