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Over the loud music drifted a familiar voice: "Who did you end up coming with?"
Cherri didn't need to look to her right to know it was Apo, but she looked regardless. The dress she'd found draped around her perfectly, and if Cherri didn't know better they'd think it was tailored. In truth, she'd borrowed it from a friend a few hours before. Apo wasn't used to wearing dresses, but after they'd pushed past her initial awkwardness it was hard to tell. A sequined mask, the same dark blue as the rest of the outfit, hid the upper half of their face.
Cherri herself had found an old dress shirt that matched their own mask, then went the extra couple miles with accessories. It wasn't anything special—not compared to Apo, at least, in her opinion.
"I hitched a ride with Graecie and Shan." The former was now lost in the crowd somewhere, probably keeping an eye on potential risks to her parents' property. After a quick look around, it was easy to find the latter: she'd emerged from her rational cocoon, as she tended to at these parties, a fluttery social butterfly, trading her balance for charisma.
"How's Shan getting home?"
"Not my problem anymore," Cherri grumbled, although she only partly meant that. "I spent the first half of tonight trying to get her to slow down. She never listens. Did you drive yourself?"
"Yeah, and Owen tagged along. I think we're in similar boats," Apo said, pointing out one of the guests next to Shan.
"Lovely."
"Isn't the whole masquerade thing kinda pointless?"
Cherri nodded. "Half of us got ready together anyways. But I think for them it works," she lifted a pinky off of her cup and pointed at the center of the room, "they're drunk enough."
Apo hummed. She lifted their own cup to their lips, something to do with her hands, but didn't actually drink any of it. Cherri pretended not to notice.
Someone must've said something funny, because cheers and laughter erupted from the knot of party goers.
Shan—not Shan, an "anonymous partygoer," for tonight—called out, "I'll drink to that!" and lifted the red Solo cup that had hardly left her side all night.
"Shan, no!" Cherri yelled, cupping her free hand around their mouth. If anyone heard them, she'd been ignored.
Apo patted her shoulder in a comforting, "you tried," gesture while Cherri rubbed at their temples.
The song changed from something more upbeat to something slightly less so, something Cherri recognized, and she decided to focus on trying to remember the lyrics over paying attention to anything else.
"Do you think it'd be fun to pretend?" Apo asked after a moment, breaking the silence between them, barely audible over the music.
"Maybe," Cherri mused, swirling her cup and watching the contents with great fascination. "Pretend what?"
"That the masks work."
She smiled, letting her drink slow to a natural stop. "You know, we've spent all this time talking to one another and I haven't even gotten your name."
"And I yours. May I ask it?"
"No, of course you can't. It's a masquerade."
"Ah," the mystery woman said, "I had nearly forgotten. But I hope you might reveal it to me at midnight."
"Perhaps I will."
They grinned, eyes brightening under the shadow of the mask. "What shall I call you until then?"
The familiar cry of, "I'll drink to that!" was heard in all corners of the room, followed by a couple cheers. Cherri only sighed.
"I fear the anonymity has turned half of us to alcoholics. That woman is going to drink herself to death."
"Do you care?" the woman in blue asked, head tilted. She set her cup on a nearby shelf.
"Of course I care. We arrived in the same carriage. I may not recognize her by her face, but I know her garments well."
Breaking character, Apo laughed. "Getting real old fashioned with it, are we?"
Cherri nudged her with her elbow, nearly spilling her drink as she did. "God forbid a girl wants to employ a little whimsy."
"God forbid," she echoed. "So, what should I call you?"
"Well, you cannot assume I am telling the truth, but say I am a princess, called The Sun, in another land. Very far from here, very, but I have heard rumors of our dear host's balls being most excellent."
"So I've stumbled across a noblewoman!" she gasped with faux amazement. "Then let me be called The Moon, to serve as your knight and protect you on this unpredictable evening."
The Sun laughed. "I hardly need rescued from a gaggle of drunks."
"Then you simply enjoy my presence?" The Moon suggested, a coy smile spreading across her face.
"That must be it."
"You look very nice tonight, princess."
She flushed. "And you yourself." The Sun gave The Moon another long, admiring look, and tried to avoid letting their eyes linger anywhere for too long.
The Moon hummed. "I think you were right about the dangers of anonymity. It might prove ruinous for my reputation."
"How so?"
"I find myself very tempted to do something stupid," she murmured.
The Sun looked away, finding the look in The Moon's eye too much to bear. "I'll drink to that," she said, raising her drink to her mouth.
It never made it to its destination, though. A hand caught her wrist and dragged it back down. She was tugged, gently, closer, until The Moon's soft lips were kissing their own.
The Sun pushed herself away and looked through the eye holes in the brave knight's mask.
"You're right," they said, "that was stupid."
"Was it… unwelcome?"
They took a moment to consider.
"Kiss again!" an anonymous partygoer shouted out. They sounded an awful lot like Shan. A chorus of supporting cheers followed after her rousing, inspiring speech.
Apo opened her mouth to say something, but cut herself off, red ears poking out from their hair. Cherri couldn't hold in her laugh, and they moved in to oblige the audience.
"Not at all."