Prologue
It only took two days to change her opinion on the color orange. DeLa had walked into Manilow law school like it was something pre-ordained at her birth. Her parents always knew, they both had met there, premier lawyers since the day they had walked in. That would be Dela's fate too of course, every day of mock trial, every hour spent studying, every expected A+ she ever earned, it was all for this. The prophecy had finally come true, she was here. And then as if she had seen a ghost, she saw an old calling, an old pang of bloodthirst in her mouth stretching down the Manilow halls she saw an old sight for very very very sore eyes. Jinkx fucking Monsoon. Oh, she remembered her, a spot that she couldn't wipe away with money or mind on her perfect resume. A failure, Oregon's crosser on her last case of mock trial. A bat out of hell, walking down the hardwood halls. Black blazer and black pants (both with dust), a plaid orange thin tie, a white shirt, all rising to a mountain of fire orange hair. It was like DeLa was getting war flashbacks- "Objection relevance" "Objection hearsay" "Objection more prejudicial than probative" "Objection witness non-responsive" "Is this your affidavit Ms. Clark?" like a flood of razor blades. Jinkx asked questions no other crosser did, and she was right. Jinkx made her look so bad the judge didn't believe her nice girl act. She lost, she didn't win, she was a disappointment in that moment, she didn't even get to finals, THIRD ROUND. That devil with a beehive shredded her so bad the last trial against Oklahoma seemed like a circus act. Every word in the cross was clean as brand new silver. Her closing was so charismatic, so persuasive, she started to not even think her own character was innocent by the end. She lost. DeLa has always tried to be kind to everyone around her. However, DeLa doesn't lose, she wins- stylishly, every time but the one. Every time for the rest of the competition she saw that orange hair it was like hell walking. And walking down the hall was hell itself.
But DeLa forgot something, a simple overheard phrase she didn't even think about having spoken at the pin swap back in mock trial. Jinkx was a damn good crosser anyway, but she knew that she had to win that cross. She knew she had to tear that bitch to pieces. She had to be better than that Connecticut girl. Jinkx was tired of dealing with the people on her team, she could only take so much. She liked a few people especially those who worked hard, some didn't like her, she didn't like some. She had moseyed about collection trinkets on her lonesome, she had sat down to eat some of the poor catering. She had happened to overhear the Connecticut team. Jinkx heard little snippets of what DeLa had spoken to her friend "Who do you think looks good? Pennsylvania? Definitely not Oregon or South Dakota, right? They've like never been in the top ten ever, both new schools to, and I mean come on". Jinkx knew the type of school they were. Rich, more people, more money, more funding more time, they're whole vibe bled rich as duck fat. We're gonna fucking win this year.
Jinkx couldn't help but think that she was walking in a hall full of dolls, little painted judgy figurines without personalities. The whole hall chock full of white matryoshkas stacking into friend groups already. Thank God for the full ride but Manilow riche might just do her in. She also maybe a bit stoned, God Georgie can go to hell for convincing her to do edibles the night before her first day at college, the whole road trip had been tiring, but Jinkx couldn't drive herself that far her narcolepsy would try to kill her. Was that girl staring at her?...... like really hard? The fade over blocked Jinkx from remembering who DeLa was. Probably some rich-
"Oh hi! I remember you! Jinkx right?" DeLa's acknowledgement was a foul ball thrown into Jinkx that she wasn't prepared to catch. "Oh yeah... sorry where did we meet?" Jinkx tried to summon soberness from her chest. Oh my god she doesn't even remember me; I must have been good enough at least been good enough for her to remember me... is she being rude? "DeLa! DeLa Creme at your service!" "Not ringing any bells" "Mock trial?" "Oh, what did you play" "Witness". Now DeLa was just throwing it in her face, there's no possible way I was a delight in court! "Which?". Oh my god... sorry god for taking your name in vain even if it's in my head. "Clark and Whiteman" "Oh! I did the Clerk cross" "Clark". Mock trial was for a while the main thing DeLa had now she was just disrespecting the art of it. DeLa continued to make more reasons to be furious at Jinkx while zipping her mouth with a sugar sweet smile. "Oh yeah I remember you" Jinkx lied through her teeth. "Nice seeing you again" and Jinkx walked off into the wooden panel mirror room of the Manilow halls.
Okay that was weird.
Oh, she will remember me.
That short talk was all it took for DeLa to dread seeing that splash of orange against black.