Spiderweb Threads
Victoria Chase looked perfect.
This, of course, was nothing particularly special. The girl in question often looked perfect. Rachel thought that Chase was one of those people who refused to not look perfect, even to close friends.
Rachel had never taken the time to learn the different kinds of dresses, or really much about clothes in general. She mostly just wore what was comfortable - and she looked great in it, thank you.
Not that she meant to be narcissistic. But, honestly, telling herself that she wasn’t beautiful was just impossible. She was actually fairly sure she had given three different people sexual awakenings in one form or another. Which, she had to admit, was a whole new level of flattering.
Honestly, one of the biggest reasons she had become such quick friends with Chloe was that her bestie refused to treat her differently because of her status or looks. They had met in a memorable instance of Chloe calling her a nitwit, which remained one of her more clever insults.
Anyway. Chase.
With any other girl, looking any other way, Rachel would’ve thought that the comfortable-looking clothes were worn to be just that. Comfortable.
But with Chase, she couldn’t help but read a little deeper.
Yes, the clothes looked comfortable - and they probably were, to a certain extent. But Rachel doubted that it was a really significant part of why Chase was wearing them.
Because everybody else had taken the time to dress up. Which made Chase - the frontrunner of the party and the one everybody wanted to appeal themselves to - look like she was snubbing the dress code at her own party.
Well - everyone but Rachel and her plus one had taken the time to dress up.
Which kinda ruined Chase’s whole deal.
That was really a good example of her and Chase’s general dynamic.
“Chase!” She called, loudly, unable to help her sparkling grin.
She thought, sometimes, that in another life, her and Chase might’ve been friends.
“Amber.” Chase said flatly, without turning to her.
She skidded into Chase’s field of view, and gave her the widest smile she had on offer.
Chase raised a cold, sharp eyebrow.
“Huh. Casual clothes? You stealing my look, Chase?”
Something like a spark flew across Chase’s eyes - like someone had struck a rock against the flint of her pupils.
She didn’t look tempted to smirk.
“Presuming a lot, aren’t you, Amber - thinking ‘your’ look is worth stealing.”
Rachel nearly laughed.
“Well, you’re looking good, blondie.” She said, with a wolfish grin.
Chase’s lips tightened.
“...Thank you.”
God, she was perfect.
Just the way her tongue rolled around that thank you - like it felt foreign in her mouth. Her tied back hair, her sculpted cheekbones, her sharp eyebrows - everything about her was just so perfect.
And Rachel had always loved ruining perfect things.
“Well, no need to thank me, Viccy-”
She just barely managed to catch the repressed flinch. Chase was getting better at stamping those down.
“After all - I doubt you’ve thanked people for the last hundred compliments, hm?” She finished, with a sharp glance and the hint of a grin playing on her lips.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Chase said - and her voice was perfect too, sharp but monotone, cold but uncaring. “It would be unbelievably rude of me to not express my gratitude. Besides - I’m not secretive when I’m flattered.”
Chase raised an eyebrow at her again, and a little thrill went through her.
“Why, between the two of us, Dawn-”
Now it was Rachel’s turn to flinch.
“-I think you’re more likely to brush aside a compliment.”
Rachel shrugged with a sharp grin, not even a little faked.
“Well, I’ve got more then I need.”
Chase gave her a sharp look.
“But never more then you want.”
The jab was sharp and personal, and it was the first one that stung.
“Pot? Kettle.”
Chase turned away from her, like she was a spare bit of grime under the blonde’s shoe.
“Mm. As interesting as this discussion has been, Amber, you’re unable to hold water. As usual. Perhaps you should start using those swimming lessons.”
Ouch. Another personalized one.
Rachel grinned.
Chase wanted it personal? Fine. She could play that game.
“But I wouldn’t want to make you embarrassed again, Viccy!”
That got a reaction. For a moment, every one of the cold iron sheets between Chase and her vanished - and Viccy sent her a sharp, icy look, with foggy loathing brimming in her pupils.
Rachel grinned back, sharp and dangerous.
Her heartbeat thudded in her ears.
“Once again, Amber,” Viccy whispered - and her tone was prickly, sharp edges poking through the velvet coating of her voice - “you tread ice thinner then is safe.”
Rachel leaned in - and she could hear Viccy’s erratic breathing and taste the loathing in the air.
“Why live, if you don’t take a few risks?” She whispered back, with a tiny grin.
The steps were perfect. People were trying not to be obvious about how they stared.
The legendary Chase-Amber rivalry, boiling over again.
Viccy leaned back first.
The sheets of iron slammed home again.
“...It was... nice, talking to you, Amber, but I’ve got projects of greater import to toy with.”
Rachel grinned.
“You and your toys, Chase.”
If it had been another time, and another world, Chase might’ve smiled.
It was incredibly lucky, that the bathroom was unoccupied when they stumbled in.
Chloe was just floating around.
She wasn’t as good at that as Rachel was. She mostly kept to herself. She had never really found people that appealed to her, with very few exceptions. Rachel was one of those exceptions, but she was pretty much the only one.
(She didn’t count Max yet. Max would be on the list when they met.
She couldn’t wait to add her.)
She wasn’t really a party person - and yet, Rachel insisted on dragging her along. Really, she was rarely of any use at these things - sometimes Rachel would drag her along and make witty comments about people with their backs turned, that Chloe couldn’t help but laugh at. Occasionally, Rachel would want to have Chloe pose as her girlfriend. She had kissed Rachel more times then she could count, honestly.
She couldn’t exactly say it was unpleasant - but she and Rachel agreed that they were meant to be just friends.
Rachel always seemed oddly interested in First-Name-Doesn’t-Really-Matter Chase at these parties. That was how Chloe had mentally labeled her, a long time ago. Apparently, Chase and Rachel had been long-time… rivals? That was the word Rachel used, but she grinned oddly whenever she did, so Chloe was a little suspicious. They had apparently been in swim class together, once upon a time, and had been bitter acquaintances ever since. Chloe didn’t even know what had happened between them, but she supposed that - just like Chase’s first name - it didn’t really matter.
They were idle curiosities, really. Not of any importance.
She leaned against a wall, and sighed. Adjusted her beanie.
...She needed a smoke break.
Luckily, a balcony door was right there.
The city lights played against the asphalt below.
She took a heavy drag from the cigarette, and exhaled it through her nose.
Inhale.
…
Exhale.
“Can I bum a smoke?”
She glanced up.
There was a figure, enshrouded in the doorway. The light from inside lit the edges of her form, and muffled shrieks of laughter filtered past her.
Chloe got the sudden feeling that the perfect framing was intentional.
She was beautiful, in exactly the way Chloe wasn’t remotely interested in. Her blonde hair was tied back in a perfect tail, no strands escaping it. Her jaw was sharp, and her eyes were cold as metal in Winter.
Still.
She gave the pack a firm shake (lifting it from where she had been about to stow it away) and offered a lifted cigarette to blondie.
“Thanks.”
The word rolled off the girl’s tongue oddly, like she wasn’t quite used to saying it.
“No prob.”
She took another drag of her own smoke as blondie came up next to her, leaning off the balcony in a pose almost exactly like her’s. Except blondie’s was too… practiced. Too perfect to be natural, too picturesque to be relaxed.
She breathed out. Foggy smoke billowed into the cool nighttime air.
“...You’re the one who planned the party.” Chloe said. It wasn’t really a question.
It wasn’t quite a revelation either, though. It was like… she had grasped at something that she had already known, but hadn’t quite actively remembered.
Like someone mentioning a scene in a movie you watched - a scene that you hadn’t quite forgotten, but hadn’t really remembered either. One that you could grasp at when asked, but didn’t really think about.
“Chase.” Chloe finished. It was a party at the Chase household, under the Chase name.
Blondie glanced at her.
“...Yes. That’s me.” She raised a cool eyebrow. “And you are?”
“Chloe.” She said. “Chloe Price.”
“A pleasure, Chloe Price.”
They were quiet for a moment.
A muffled laugh filtered through the cracked doorway.
“I don’t remember you being on the guest list.” Blondie said, giving her a half-glance, half-glare.
She wasn’t insulted.
“I’m Rachel Amber’s plus one.”
She wasn’t insulted, because being Rachel’s plus one always meant you were in the background.
Not that Chloe minded. Lone wolf, and all that.
Blondie’s perfect mask cracked, a little. A flash of something like resentment - or maybe disgust - flashed across her face.
“...Ah. Yes, I remember now. She’s mentioned you.”
Chloe sent Blondie a glance.
“You talk to Rachel?”
In a friendly capacity? Was the unsaid end to the question. Blondie seemed to catch it.
“Not exactly,” Blondie said, her tone of voice oddly thick, “but she’s not exactly… secretive.”
Chloe let out a reluctant huff of amusement.
“Yeah, that’s my Amber, all right.”
A lull.
Lights glittered on the streets below.
“...Well. Thank you for the smoke, Chloe Price.”
She waved off Blondie’s thanks. “It was nothing, Chase.”
Chase straightened, and flicked the smoldering remains of her smoke off the railing with a single movement.
Chloe took quick note of how brutal and efficient that movement was.
“Of course it was nothing.” Blondie seemed tempted to sneer, but didn’t. “I’m not thanking you because it was difficult on your part. I’m thanking you because it benefitted me.”
And with that cheerful parting note, she left.
Chloe didn’t glance back as she did.
...She couldn’t say she would miss the blonde.