[NYE Party] happy new year and lots of fun

[nascensibility]

Who: EVERYONE, but especially you!
Where: Wonderland Ballroom
When: New Year's Eve
Rating: PG - PG13 (will change if applicable)
Summary: New Year's Eve Party
The Story:

[ Previously in the month all residents received an invitation to a formal event: a black tie affair to ring in the New Year. The ballroom and adjacent areas are decked out for the party starting at eight o'clock sharp, meticulously planned and executed, glittering décor to match the no doubt glittering attire as music pours into the halls from the dance floor.

Bars flank each side, service for all manner of alcohol unless a minor requests something, and the primary setting stage features an enormous clock for the countdown. ]




[ Where will you be when the clock strikes midnight? ]

Comments

[nascensibility]

[He looks so genuinely contrite that she wants to be wary, unnerved by the notion of receiving sincerity after being abruptly manhandled so close to the public eye. Evelyn isn't going to pitch an unneeded fit and today is supposed to be happy, relaxing. That Joel is apparently wandering around and pinching women's bottoms like some Lothario is cause for concern, because he acts more wallflower by nature.

Evelyn softens, but feels unconvinced. She is happy that he came, less so that he made introductions the way that he did. Something is grievously wrong.]

I'm- I'm glad to see you, too, I'm just confused by the manner with which you greeted me.

[Those cursed Christmas cookies might still be in effect, but it seems strange they might still be at work. Evelyn doesn't want to offend and therefore treads lightly with her wording, still grateful he showed up at all.]

It seems uncharacteristically handsy of you, in public, and I don't- I don't know if I've given you the impression I am that sort of person, but I can assure you I am not.

[shivving]

[ Confused? That's a little strong, isn't it? Joel lets it go, instead nodding along in earnest agreement. ]

I get it, I get it. [ He does. Or thinks he does. ] No smoochin' in front of all your friends, alright.

[ But they're not in front of them now, are they? He leans in closer, catching a loose curl and twirling it gently between his fingers.

God, she's beautiful. ]

I just - haven't stopped thinkin' about you.

[nascensibility]

[Evelyn wracks her brains trying to recall a time when she might have told him that "smooching" was all right in any capacity between them, save for a quick peck on the cheek in greeting. This isn't a regular communication; Joel seems to be labouring under the misapprehension that they have not only kissed before, but that he is entitled to that sort of behaviour now.

The longer she stands here waffling about how to finagle some sense from him the more time he has to do precisely what he is doing: making her uncomfortable. This isn't Joel. This can't be Joel.]

Ah.

[Cornered by his considerably larger body mass Evelyn feels her face grow hot - in shame? or anger? - as Joel curls her hair around his finger. As he keeps staring as her as though he has been given a great gift. As he says words that confirm just that.]

Since when?

[shivving]

[ Now he looks wounded, and more than a little baffled. He hadn't - couldn't have dreamed it, imagined it. It had happened. And Evie...Evie isn't a one-night-stand kind of woman.

Is she? ]

Since...since that night. You know...

[ He trails off, looking at her with quickly-growing concern, as much for her as for himself. She doesn't look mad now, just uncomfortable, her face strangely flushed. ]

Evie...is everything all right?

[nascensibility]

[Evelyn has the crawling, agonising notion that no matter what Joel tells her, she is already aware of the real answer. The strangeness of his behaviour toward her, the way he has come alive since they last met and his recent willingness to be bullied into her party provided she visit his on Christmas day, the circumstances of madness hovering about the holidays like a spectre.

Joel is hurt, clearly remembering something that she does not and Evelyn knows that horrifying situation intimately, the fear that one is not on the same page with someone who is supposed to be familiar with you. It strikes her that this is something easily taken advantage of, when a person is presented with an opportunity.

In an instant, she knows.]

Joel.

[Evelyn says distantly, looking not at him, but somewhere around his jacket lapels.]

Were you...propositioned by a woman who looked like me? Did she - did I - come to you?

[shivving]

[ He just stares at her, at a loss, trying in vain to figure out what she's getting at, what she's doing.

And then he shakes his head firmly. No. No, he's not doing this. Not after he'd waited, hoped for so long. ]

That ain't funny.

[nascensibility]

[That awful sensation of dawning comprehension does not so much shine a light upon their situation as it does draw a heavy curtain over the whole thing. Evelyn has known her double to spend the time she has on their side engaging in seduction for the novel entertainment of it. With the dearth of claims from people who have come to know her Biblically these last handful of years Evelyn had hoped that her Mirror's delight in such activity had waned, that she might have found other ways with which to occupy her time.

Presumably, this assumption was an incorrect one. Her gaze startles back to his face quickly, attentive and suddenly sharp.]

I'm not making a joke. When did you last see me?

[shivving]

[ No, it is a joke. Because it has to be. A cruel, unfunny joke that isn't like Evie at all, that he has no explanation for, but it has to be, because the alternative is worse.

A haunting image creeps into his mind despite himself. Ellie, with a broken arm, telling him of a man that looked just like him, acted just like him, and worst of all, knew everything about them both. A man she'd genuinely believed was him, to the point where she'd invited him into her room, let him close the door behind them, only to have him turn on her and smash her forearm with a hammer.

His stomach turns over, blood going cold as his hand drops away from her face. Somehow, he manages to force the words out, tongue feeling like cotton in his mouth. ]

The day...the day after Christmas.

On the roof.

[ Now would be a good time to smile and laugh and apologize for pulling his leg, Evie. ]

[nascensibility]

[It seems to dawn on Joel shortly thereafter and Evelyn regrets that she had to tell him this at all, that he must learn that the woman who no doubt invited herself to his bed was not her. It has happened before. It may very well happen again, and here he is looking simultaneously hopeful and dismayed, waiting for her to negate things. To clarify.

His hand falls away from her and Evelyn scrambles to recall what she was doing on Boxing Day. Delivering last-minute gifts. Visiting the stables and riding her horse. Arranging the music selection for this very evening.]

The last time I saw you was Christmas day.

[She says slowly, familiar enough with Joel to know how he can snap at information he doesn't like, but not so familiar as to understand how a man who does not appear to have shown any explicit interest in her can suddenly say what he is saying.]

Your get-together. With Ellie, and Michonne. You made French toast?

[shivving]

[ He remembers, of course, with perfect clarity. The food, the laughter, the gifts. Evie in his own small kitchen for the first time, chatting with and gently teasing him as he flipped French toast. The coffee she'd given him as a present, with its little note.

Take your time.

A message he'd thought he'd understood, accompanied by a warm, affectionate look and an understanding smile. A message somewhat belied by her invitation the very next day - solitude, brandy, and an unexpected kiss.

But that was all right. He'd been ready.

He doesn't snap. This is too awful for that, too big and terrible to ignore. Instead, he backs away, shaking his head in mute horror. ]

No.

No, th' - th'roof.

[ It feels like his brain is caught in a loop, unable to progress. He gives her a pained, pleading look. ]

That wasn't you?

[nascensibility]

[It's worse than she thought.

Joel looks at her as though she has suddenly grown another head, a seeping horror that makes its way through him while he steps back from her, putting distance between them. To her credit Evelyn does try to avoid taking offence to something that is, genuinely, hurtful, but she realises that his comprehension must be...disappointing?

Wringing her hands in front of her, stock-still, Evelyn shakes her head. She is loathe to confirm it for him because he looks so disastrously mortified.

Her Mirror must have worked quickly, the way she has in the past, but more surprising still is the knowledge that Joel showed an interest. Up until now, he never has.]

That wasn't me.

[shivving]

[ He stares at her a moment more, searching, nearly praying, for some last glimmer of hope. But she isn't joking. She wouldn't joke about this, wouldn't take it this far. All of a sudden he sees his greeting to her in a whole new light. Something not just unexpected, but entirely inappropriate. Unwanted, even.

Christ, he'd fucking assaulted her, hadn't he? And she couldn't do a thing.

He stumbles back further, feeling sick, hating himself. That whole night, one of the best nights of his life. The week following, when he'd been so happy. Floating on air.

And Evie had never had any idea.

That wasn't me. ]

Shit.

[ The curse is sudden and vicious and doesn't come close to express how fucking awful all this is. She must - god, she must hate him. Think he's pathetic, if she doesn't just think he's a goddamn monster. ]

I - I'm sorry, Evie.

I'm sorry.

[ Without another word, without waiting for a reply, he turns his back and makes a beeline for the door. ]