Chapter Text
“Hurry the hell up, Chanel,” I grumble. My foot taps a fast, restless rhythm against the smooth marble floor as I shift impatiently. “Everyone else is already at the table waiting for you.”
“Fallon,” she whines from inside the bathroom, “Just wait a sec, okay? I got some mascara above my eye, and I need to fix it real quick.”
“This is not going to be quick,” I mutter under my breath.
A muffled cry of protest sounds as the bathroom door flies open and Chanel steps out, arms crossed and delicate chin tipped upward. “Thanks a lot, Fallon. I look hideous.”
My face pulls into a frown as I tenderly brush a perfectly styled platinum blonde curl behind Chanel’s ear, allowing her pale lavender earring to glimmer under the harsh lighting fixtures overhead. “No, you don’t, princess. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the privilege to see.”
“Hurry up!” Harper’s voice slices through the hallway. “The food’s getting cold!”
I squeeze Chanel’s hand reassuringly, catching her icy blue eyes gazing up into mine. A small smile curves itself upon my lips, and at that Chanel breaks into the most radiant grin and slips my fingers into hers and my cheeks are burning, blistering, smoldering, and they’re shifting through a multitude of hues of red; crimson, vermillion, scarlet, and God I love her so, so much—
I force myself to swallow the knot in my throat, my breath hitching as I gently release her hand, my face laced still in that same stupid smile. I gesture to the dining room and murmur, “After you, princess.”
She glides ahead with the lightness of a fairy, leaving me trailing behind her as we head to the dinner table. All the other dinner guests are already seated and engaged fiercely in meaningless conversation, bobbing their heads in feigned understanding and gesturing vividly with their arms.
Chanel glances at me as she pulls out a chair and settles lightly upon it. I take the seat next to her, grinning around at people I used to call my high school friends. Not, of course, that we’d fallen out. But time chips away at the people you once knew inside out, leaving you banking on memories that struggle to stay afloat.
“Took you long enough,” Sean remarks with an arched eyebrow, lounging in his seat.
“Certain people were probably fussing over nothing,” Martin agrees, mirth shimmering in his emerald eyes as he stares pointedly at Chanel.
Chanel places a hand over her heart, as if wounded by his words. “Certain people actually care about their appearance, something that other certain people find difficult to understand and clearly shows.”
Martin heaves a sigh, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. “First thing she says at the table, and it’s about my apparent lack of fashion sense. Chanel really hasn’t changed at all.”
I kiss her lightly on the cheek, and Chanel squeezes my hand tightly under the table.
Seb pretends to gag, turning his head away and covering his eyes. “Get a room, you two. Art and Sera were being all lovey-dovey enough earlier, and I don’t wanna see a Round 2.”
I tilt my head. “Seb, come on. Don’t dog on our relationship because you can’t get one.”
Seb glares at me, picking up a bread roll from the center of the table as a few people fail to suppress their giggles. “That’s nice, Fallon, but I’m not interested in getting one. Next thing you tell me, Madi and Oli are going to go at it.”
Madi and Oli instantly stop smiling.
“We are…separated,” Madi states curtly. I’ve never seen her so cold. “And we want nothing to do with each other ever again. Not after…what happened between us.”
Seb freezes on the spot, a bread roll stuffed halfway down his mouth as he mumbles over it, “Huh? I didn’t uh…I wasn’t thinking, I’m uh…sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“That’s great and all,” Harper interrupts loudly, leaning away from Seb as bread crumbs spill from his mouth and nudging him. “Seb, for God’s sake, don’t talk while eating. To change the, uh, subject matter at hand, I think we should, you know, raise a glass and thank our lovely host for inviting us here after all this time?”
I pour myself a glass of wine and raise it in the air, hoping to ease some of the tension buzzing in the room. The others, upon seeing this, opt to do the same. Madi and Oli glance at each other, their gazes lingering a moment longer before their eyes avert.
I clink my glass to the others before taking a few polite sips, my face twitching at the taste. I have never seen an appeal in this sour, dish-soap-like drink, but for the niceties, I maintain my expression as I lean back and Chanel kisses me, sucking the last remnants of the wine off my lips.
Seb groans mildly in protest, a little more subdued after Madi’s outburst. “Okay, okay. Well, thanks for inviting us, Fin. This little gathering has been fun so far…for the most part.”
Fin glances towards Seb, a piece of broccoli speared by his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth. “You’ve gotta be tripping, Seb. You know how I feel about large gatherings. I’m only here because it’s you guys. Ozias literally invited us.”
Ozias looks up from his console, his fingers coming to a rest on his screen as his device spits out a weak KO! “What? I didn’t invite anyone here. Chanel and Fallon are hosting us, no?”
My gaze shoots to Chanel in alarm, warning lightbulbs flickering within me as I set my drink down. Now that I think about it, disgusting as wine is in its normal form, there is a strange aftertaste from this glass unlike it.
My vision is giving out, blurring, breaking at the seams as the glass slips from my fingers and Chanel slumps forwards and I try to scream and reach for her but my arms are lead and my ears are ringing and I can't, I can't as these spots are playing across my vision and this void is pulling me in, and…
***
My eyes blink open and shut as I hoist myself upwards. I’m still in the same seat as before, my mind groggy and the images before me blurring into one another. What the hell is going on? Why were our drinks spiked?
I turn my head to the side. Chanel is still there. She’s massaging her temples and wiping at the corners of her eyes as she shifts in her seat. A wave of relief washes over me, replaced within seconds yet again by suspicion and confusion of what was going on.
Everyone is coming to their senses again, and no one has moved.
For a moment, I wonder if I’m overthinking this. I dare to delude myself that nothing’s wrong, because that’s so much easier and more convenient and would be very much preferred.
Which is why these hopes are instantly crushed by a notification.
A series of clicks ripple across the table as people turn on their phones one by one.
Everything on my phone is gone but a white screen inscribed with a word in large, bold letters and a small note beneath it. I startle as I lean forward, my neck unusually heavy as I glance downward at the collar pressing against it before my eyes flicker back to the screen.
Town - Vigilante
Everyone at this table has played the normal version of Mafia, so you’ll get a short rundown of this version rather than a detailed explanation of what’s going on here.
You are part of the Town faction. All mafia must be eliminated for your victory and release from this venue. Your role entails a revolver with only one bullet. Each discussion, you may use your one bullet to shoot any player you suspect of being on the opposing faction - essentially, a Witch or Mafia. Be wary, as a wrong shot will kill you instead. The main way to eliminate the Mafia is through voting, which is advised for its more discreet nature in that you won’t become a target and you won’t die for a wrong guess. Use your ability if others do not believe you, or the Mafia are accusing you and the Town is going along with you. Your bullet will be replaced the following discussion.
Note: You will not die for shooting a Bodyguard’s protectee, as explained below.
A breakdown of the other roles:
Town:
Civilian (5) - No ability.
Detainer - Detain one player per night to speak to them privately.
Detective - See and be able to scan footprints to figure out where players have been.
Doctor (2) - Heal players the mafia attack before it is too late.
Janitor - Clean the Saboteur’s messes and unlock doors, lockers, and closets the Saboteur locks.
Judge - Break ties in the Town’s favor.
Suppressor - Stop one player per night from voting.
Vigilante - You!
Neutral:
Bodyguard - Assigned a protectee (Town, Neutral, or Mafia) to protect. If a Town Bodyguard’s protectee or a Neutral Bodyguard’s protectee is attacked, shot by the Vigilante, or voted out, the Bodyguard will suffer the consequences. If a Mafia Bodyguard’s protectee is shot by the Vigilante or voted out, the Mafia Bodyguard will suffer the consequences. Cannot have a Jester as protectee.
Jester - Must be voted out and choose one player to “haunt” to win. That is, to kill them.
Saboteur - Lock players in rooms and create messes to survive. Not allowed to lock themself alone in a room.
Mafia:
Witch - Disables speaking privileges for one night.
Mafia (3) - Kills one player per night across the team.
Basic Rules:
Town/Neutral:
No role calling or asking. You may prove your innocence through physical action.
No grouping at a location in order to stop mafias from killing.
Mafia:
Do not rat out your teammates.
Attempt to kill at least once every two nights.
Good luck to all players.