Chapter Text
Boris hummed, his stomach close to bursting. Bendy was practically purring next to him. So far, this party thing was going fine. It was a lot of stuffy people in stuffy clothes grinning and doing that weird fake laugh thing people did in polite society. Not all of them, but enough of them for Boris to know they were not dealing with real thoughts and intentions here. That was fine. They could work with that. It was the same con as Boris’ sad puppy eyes schtick on the streets. Pity for money and a good feeling for helping the sad poor people. The only difference was that they weren’t also stealing people’s wallets.
Guess that meant it wasn’t a con. Weird that it felt similar. Boris hummed to himself. Maybe he had eaten too much. He was feeling sleepy. Bendy’s eyes were wandering back to the dance floor and people around the edges. No guess where he was going to head next. “Think we’ll ever get to drive something like those cars?” Boris asked.
Bendy scoffed. “Maybe if we save the world.” He said sarcastically. “It’s no promise to fortune.”
“I dunno Bendy. Maybe one of these people finds us impressive enough. You’re a good mechanic and inventor. I bet you could make all sorts of things with the right stuff,” Boris said.
Bendy’s eyes slid over to him. He blinked slowly. “Doubt any of these people would be interested in me. But hey, there’s a few ways to make cash in this world. What’ll be a pain is the damn fame. Think they’ll leave us alone after the quest?”
“I dunno,” Boris admitted with a small jerk of his shoulder.
Bendy hummed. His eyes drifted to the night sky outside. “Maybe we should just disappear.”
Boris furrowed his brows. “Disappear?”
“Yeah. After the machine is built, we just hop on a train and go wherever.” Bendy muttered. His eyes glazed over. “S’not like everyone will stick around afterward anyway. Best to move on first.”
“What about going home?” Boris asked. “Sasha wouldn’t be too happy with us if we did that. I don’t think any of our friends would be.”
Bendy blinked slowly. It looked like he pulled from a daydream. He sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He chuckled. “So if you could drive home tonight with one of those beauties, which one would you pick?” Boris let Bendy change the subject, but it was strange. Why would Bendy think about leaving? Maybe it was just plans for the future. They only had one more part and the machine itself to worry about. For all Boris knew, they might be done in a few weeks. Still, why would Bendy just want to disappear? The wolf didn’t understand, and for some reason, it unsettled him. Just a little bit.
“Well, I’m going to head back to the dance floor.” Bendy stood up. A waiter passed by, and Bendy snatched a glass.
“How about you stick to juice and regular water for the rest of the night,” Boris suggested lightly.
Bendy paused in taking a sip of the alcohol. “This is giggle water.”
Boris frowned, not impressed. “You really want to get wasted at this party with all those cameras right outside and all these people ready to make you a story for the ages?”
Bendy hesitated in his smirk. His eye twitched before he lowered the glass. “Damnit, fine!” Bendy groaned. He put the glass down on the table. “Cussing punch it is.” His brother pouted at the glass.
Boris chuckled. “I’ll ask Granny to make some bacon soup for dinner tomorrow.”
That seemed to perk Bendy up a bit more. “That doesn’t sound half bad.” He turned back to the dance floor.
“And Bendy?” Boris called.
Bendy paused and glanced back at him. Boris hesitated, studying the unsettled feeling in his stomach, trying to find the right words. Then a boisterous laugh cut through, and he realized they were in a public space and this talk would probably be better in private. So instead, he asked, “you’re having fun, aren’t you?”
Bendy raised a brow, making the scars on his brow ripple. “Uh, yeah. This place might be a little too fancy for my tastes, but the girls say yes and the band is the bee’s knees. Why wouldn’t I have fun?”
“Just checking.” Boris smiled.
Bendy’s brows knit together. Worry flickered in them like candlelight. “Are you having fun?”
“Uh.” Boris shrugged. He lowered his voice. “It’s really stuffy,” he admitted.
Bendy snorted and laughed. “Maybe you should try to join the band or go to one of the card tables. I saw those upstairs.”
“You don’t think I’ll get in trouble?” Boris glanced sideways at the band. It was tempting, but he didn’t know about the rules of fancy society when it came to playing instruments. He imagined it as a person on stage in a big theater or the orchestra with uncomfortable-looking suits just under the stage of operas or whatever.
“Nah.” Bendy shooed the thought away with a wave of his hand. The ring on his horn caught the light. It was still weird to see him so dressed up. He didn’t look as uncomfortable as Boris felt in the fitted clothes. “You’re too good to worry at the tables.” Bendy winked. “And the band would be lucky to have you for a few songs. If anyone hassles you, wave at me.”
“Alright, maybe in a minute,” Boris said. Bendy hesitated for a moment more before walking back to Boris and ruffling his ears. “Bendy!” Boris whined. Not here!
Bendy chuckled and his smile softened. Boris half dreaded that he’d pull out ‘lil’ wolfie’ right there in front of everyone. Instead he took a deep breath, his shoulders half raising in a shrug. For a second, it almost felt like old times, like everything that happened in Fairmont was just a bad dream and things hadn’t changed.
“Hello again, handsome stranger!” a voice called out. They both looked up to see a black cat in a streaked black dress approaching them.
Bendy perked up. “Oh, hi again.” Boris refrained from rolling his eyes. “I was just about to head back to the dance floor.”
“Ooooo, yes.” She clapped her hands. “Wanna have another go?” she asked Bendy. Her eyes flicked to Boris. “Oh, you’re so cute! What’s your name?” she asked, turning her attention on Boris.
Boris blinked owlishly. Oh no. Stars, don’t drag him on that floor! “Boris. Boris Bbro. It’s nice to meet you.” He gave her a sheepish smile.
“It’s nice to meet you too!” she grinned. “I’m Diné.” She had two little dainty cat fangs that poked out when she smiled. “Wanna dance?”
“Uh, well, you see, I’m not a good dancer like my brother so uh,” Boris shrugged helplessly, “I’m sure Bendy doesn’t mind.”
“Never,” Bendy purred. Don’t gag, Boris. He’d suffered through worse.
“Oh come on! It’s a slow dance next. You don’t need to know anything fancy. It’ll be fun.” Diné gestured at the floor excitedly.
Boris gave Bendy a pleading look. Please save him! A sly glint entered his brother’s eyes. Don’t do it, Bendy! “I think that’s a great idea. You have fun, Boris. See ya around bro.” He turned on his heel and with a flick of his spiked tail, he disappeared into the crowd.
“W-wait! You can’t ju-Bendy,” Boris groaned. Traitor. He would get him back for this! Mark his words! Bendy was doomed to the king of all pranks! First, he needed to get out of this.
Diné didn’t give him a chance to think of an escape. She grabbed his hand, pulling him onto the dance floor. “See, here you put your hand on my arm and here you hold mine.” She instructed him with confidence and a bright smile.
“Thanks,” Boris muttered and gulped. “I have two left paws, so I’m gonna trip and might step on you,” he warned sullenly.
Diné’s smile softened. “Well, Boris, that’s okay.” She winked. “I’ve got tough feet.” She stomped on her left with her right. “See? You’re not going to bother me.”
Boris’ eyes widened. “O-okay!” he said, a bit stunned.
Diné laughed. “See, it’s not so hard.” The cat coaxed him through the rest of the song, slow strides bringing them around in a lazy box step, turning gently in the sea of other dancers.
“You did such a great job!” she exclaimed as they moved off the dance floor.
“Thanks,” Boris said feeling bashful. He knew she was being nice. Though, it did feel good not to land on his tail for once. “You’re a good instructor.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” she winked. She paused. “Oh, and I like your tie.” She reached out, readjusting it. A small zap went between them. “Ouch.” Diné pulled back and sucked on her finger.
“Ah!” Boris’ hand went to his chest. “You okay? I didn’t think this suit was full of static electricity.” He rubbed the spot, rolling the whistle a little against himself. That had surprised him more than hurt.
She waved a hand. “Ah, more surprised than anything else.”
Boris smiled. “Me too. Sorry about that.” Boris straightened his tie and dropped his hands.
“Aww, you’re sweet. No need to apologize.” She laughed, patting his shoulder. “Okay, I gotta look for some more fancy feet. You keep that spark alive, okay?” she giggled, trotting off.
“Sure thing. See you around,” Boris waved as she disappeared into the crowd. Relief washed over him. In a funny way, this was exactly like how things were in the Dancing Lady, but it was too alien for that. Everything was different. Nothing had changed. Music, laughter, food, dancing, crowds, and so on. But there was crystal instead of cheap glass, lobster instead of pork, fine champagne instead of cheap beer. Boris huffed through his nose. He was thinking too much. Bendy was right. They should have fun! They’d already eaten a king’s serving of food that they’d never be able to afford. Boris had even been able to dance without embarrassing himself too much! That was a victory for him. Now it was time to find some entertainment.
Sadly, the hope to join the band was shot down fast. The trombone man shooed him away before he even had a chance. They wouldn’t even let him give them a sample of his playing. Guess he couldn’t join them as part of the ‘high society’ they were playing for. With a snort, Boris went back into the crowd of people. Several had watched him and seemed to be talking to each other, hopefully not about him. Now what was he supposed to do? He didn’t want to dance again, there was no point in pushing his luck there. Maybe he should head upstairs and look at the game rooms. He could play a couple rounds of blackjack and take some of these people’s deep pocket stashes.
“Hey Boris.” Felix came up behind him.
“Mr. Felix,” Boris smiled. “How’s it going?”
“Well, besides the mayor, it seems to be going well.” Felix grinned. “Dr. Oddswell is really hitting it off with Red’s help. I’ve been able to connect with some potential investors and interest group leaders too. I think we’ll be able to call this night a success for the most part.” The cat’s tail waved side to side playfully, a spark in his eyes. It wasn’t the excitement of a challenge or adventure. Something more like satisfaction of a job well done. “How were the cars?”
“Beautiful.” Boris snickered. “We had to talk ourselves out of taking any of them for a joyride with all the cameras right outside the doors.”
“You shouldn’t do that even if there are no cameras.” Felix gave Boris a stern look. He smiled again, knowingly. “Though, I understand the temptation. I’m glad you both had fun.”
“Yeah, and now Bendy’s off twirling with girls again.” Boris’ voice went flat. “And the band won’t let me play since it’s ‘not appropriate’ or something. Anyway, what’s with the mayor?” Boris changed subjects, not wanting to think about it again.
Felix’s smile became a bit strained. His tail stilled and his ears dropped just a little. “I believe our new mayor is a bit inclined towards the superstitious. Don’t worry, I don’t think he’s going to start ranting at your brother or throwing holy water around.”
Boris snorted. Yeah, that’d happened a few times. The water never did anything besides annoy Bendy, and the raving bullies were usually little more than buzzing flies. Not really a threat.
“I’m just a tad worried that he could become an obstacle for our work later when we have everything ready. We’ll need public trust, and I’m not sure we’ll have that from him.” Felix sighed. “If he becomes popular, we’ll have to be careful.”
“Oh great,” Boris muttered. “That’ll be fun. Can’t wait to see what he tries to pull,” Boris said sarcastically.
“Now, now, he tried to be as polite as he could to me. So, I have some hope,” Felix smiled. “We should just be careful.”
No sooner had Felix said that then the man appeared, looking around a bit frazzled. “Ex-excuse me, have you seen a woman, black cat with a hairpiece? No?” He asked someone. The painfully thin man was mopping up sweat running down his face with a handkerchief. He continued through the crowd. “Has anyone seen a black cat woman?”
Felix and Boris watched on until he was out of sight and earshot. Boris gave Felix a deadpan look. “Sorry if I’m not holding my breath sir.”
Felix chuckled and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly while shrugging. A ‘what can you do?’ gesture. Felix turned and a woman in an elegant lacy night dress and a widow’s veil approached him. Boris could only make out a shadow of her face. The indistinct features of an older woman and black hair. Yet there was something familiar about her that Boris couldn’t put a finger on.
“Hello Felix,” she said in a clear confident tone, offering her hand--not in a business-like way--but regally, like a duchess offering her greetings to a knight. “It’s been a long time.”
Felix returned the gesture without missing a beat, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of her hand. It was a practiced—if not odd—thing to do. Yet, Felix and the woman seemed fine with it even though there was a furrow in the cat’s brow. Boris looked between the two. Did they know each other? “Hello, forgive me. Sometimes my memory escapes me. Do I know you?” Felix asked politely.
She tilted her head forward and smiled. “I’m not surprised considering we only crossed paths for a short time. We met nearly fifteen years ago while you were looking for a female friend of yours who you’d been separated from. Candy, I think it was? You washed up on the shore of the beach.”
“Ah.” Felix’s face fell, a flash of discomfort in his eyes, before he brought back the smile. “I can’t recall. But if it was Candy, I could believe it. We had a . . . few interesting trips together.” Boris furrowed his brows. Candy? She was someone he knew back when he was zany. Boris’ eyes darted up to the woman curiously.
She let her hands fall to her sides, nodding. “I almost wasn’t sure it was you. You look different. Act different. But . . . good.”
Felix swallowed. “Well, fifteen years is a long time. Things change.” He shrugged.
The woman’s laugh was short. “Not for a zany, Felix.” She paused. “Are you? . . . still zany?”
Boris blinked and looked over to Felix with wide eyes. Felix, for his part, kept his smile. Boris had no idea what the cat was really feeling when he answered her. “No, not anymore. I left that behind me for a different path.” Still polite, with the amount of openness afforded to a stranger. The wolf on the other hand had no idea what to do. Was he supposed to stay quiet or speak up? Interject, back Felix up, leave it be? He didn’t know. How sensitive was the topic?
“I see. Not many zanies change that way. A rare event, to be sure.” She paused. “I apologize for pressing beyond my business. But I’m happy to see your means of living have improved. I always felt you deserved better than you got.”
Felix tilted his head inquisitively. “Thank you,” he said slowly, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should be thanking her or not. He quickly pressed on regardless. “I’m quite satisfied with myself and my current affairs now. It’s been a rather enlightening journey.” Felix smiled politely. “Even if it’s not par for the course for most zanies.”
The widow tilted her head to the side. “Most zanies don’t realize what they are missing in return for their zaniness.” She paused. “Funnily enough, you became a bit of a mascot where I live.”
Felix laughed. “How charming! I’d say I should visit but they might be a bit disappointed now.” He shrugged, lightheartedly. If Boris didn’t know he was uncomfortable, he could believe the cat was truly flattered. Stars, Felix’s acting was on a different level. The wolf studied the woman for a moment. What did she mean by missing? That didn’t seem to surprise Felix. Boris felt like he had missed something.
The woman took a passing wine glass and lifted her veil ever so slightly to sip at it. “Who knows, you might end up wandering through again on your next adventure anyways.”
“It’s a possility,” Felix smiled. “Anything could happen.”
The woman’s eyes turned to Boris. “I’m sorry. I’ve neglected to greet you as well. Are you Boris?” She offered her hand to him.
It was still weird that complete strangers knew his name without him introducing himself. “Yeah, that’s me, don’t worry about it. Felix is pretty famous.” He glanced down at her hand wondering if he was supposed to kiss it too. Why had Felix? Boris decided to just go ahead and do as the author had done and pecked the back of her hand quickly before letting go. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” she said warmly. “If it’s not too much to ask, how is everyone doing? The papers mentioned that some of you had been hurt.”
“We’re okay,” Boris answered, a bit taken aback. No one had asked him about their recovery yet. Stars, this was the first person that seemed more interested in their well-being than the quest or their adventures or even the sick. Boris felt his tail wag at the acknowledgment. “Just taking some time to recover before we head out again. Thanks-er, thank you for asking.” Boris fumbled his words shyly.
She nodded elegantly. “I’m glad to hear you are taking time to heal.” Just then, there was a crash from the kitchen. A loud SQUAWK followed it. The widow sighed, half turning. “I’m afraid I have to go. The child I’m in charge of is wreaking havoc,” she said in a deadpan tone.
Boris tilted his head curiously but couldn’t see the source of the ruckus. “Ah, well it was nice talking to you Mrs.-” but she was already striding across the dance floor, towards the continuing mayhem coming from the kitchen.
“Just you try it, buddy! I’ll show you how to pluck a duck!” a loud voice declared from inside.
Felix narrowed his eyes. “I think I know that voice.”
“You do?” Boris asked. “Should we go look?”
Felix’s frown deepened. “. . . No,” he said slowly. “No, let’s leave that be. It’s none of our business.”
Boris tilted his head again. “It’s something zany related, isn’t it?” Felix looked over at him, eyes unreadable. Face carefully neutral. Boris shrugged. “It’s okay. You’re right. It would be a bit nosey.” The wolf looked over at the small crowd already gathering to watch. “Better not.” The Warners had been fine examples of what getting involved looked like. They were supposed to keep up a positive image here. He’d just have to bury the curiosity. Boris looked over to Felix and the cat’s careful expressions as they moved further away from the kitchens. Yeah, he’d bury his curiosity, for now. Felix would talk about it when he was good and ready.
Cup blinked and had to take a second to make sure he had heard her right.
What . . . What if I told you I wanted you to?
Holly’s face was flush, her eyes bright with hope and uncertainty, painted lips pressed together as if she herself hadn’t meant the question to escape.
And stars help him, if he hadn’t been seeing that look all night. And that single little question, a hint flirty, holding many more fragile, unspoken questions and confessions. Because that’s what it really was. A confession and a question all in one. Cuphead wasn’t blind. He could read people like books. Of course he knew, but that question had given him whiplash. Suddenly, it was all coming at him at once. All the little moments, the tiny hints, the shy looks, the jokes, the careful smiles, and he just-
Cup felt a small flutter in his chest. The way she looked out for him, how brave and infuriatingly stubborn she was. A fire in the dark. A relieving breeze in the heat. A promising oasis in a desert. She really was that amazing.
Holly smiled, that genuine warm expression. Her eyes were wide and waiting, eyes just for him. Like she wanted him to be her world. She reached out and took his hand, like she’d taken it so many times before. Yet this motion held so much more meaning, and at the same time, imbued every other touch with new meaning. Meaning he hadn’t recognized. Closeness and warmth he hadn’t realized was reserved for him. Cup swallowed. He hadn’t answered her yet. He had to say something. What in all the cussing realms should he say?
“You really wouldn’t mind the company, huh? I don’t annoy you to the ends of the earth yet?” Cup chuckled. Coward. Answering a question with a cussing question. Acting like he didn’t know what she meant.
Holly blinked owlishly but despite the flush in her face and her nervous breathing, she steadied herself. “I . . .” She tugged at a loose strand of hair. “I like spending time with you. I . . . um, I’d like to spend more time with you, honestly.”
Stars, moon, and sun. He didn’t think he was ready to talk to her like this. Talk to her about this. His soul was a bundled-up mess of emotions that—as the milliseconds ticked by—seemed to inch ever closer to some form of exploding. He wasn’t sure what kind either. He needed time. Time to think, to process to—Stars, he knew he was putting this off, but he hadn’t thought he’d have to face it like this. She still wasn’t out-right saying or asking . . . yet. But she might as well have been. “Then how about another dance tree princess? It sounds like it’s a slow one,” Cup offered.
“Ah.” Holly frowned. “In a minute. I actually meant something else by what I said.” Cup felt a lead weight drop into his stomach. Oh cuss.
“We can chat and dance,” Cup said, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto the dance floor. What the hell was he doing? Dance wasn’t the answer. It could buy him time, though, and that’s what he needed.
“Wai--Cup, wait a second.” She stumbled to keep up as he rushed them into the next dance, quickstep. “I really think it’d be better to talk without--”
“There’s all night to talk,” Cup said. “Let’s just have some fun and enjoy the moment.” He kept the pace up too. Funny how tripping wasn’t even a concern in his mind. He only had minutes to figure out what to do. What to say. What should be said. It was hard to think with the music, the steps, the furrow in her brows. Okay, assess the situation. He was dancing with Holly, one of the people he cared about deeply. They were at a gala surrounded by the rich, influential, and even criminal. She wanted to ask a question he was not ready to answer. There was no easy escape without causing a scene of her coming after him. What else could he do?
“How . . . are you keeping up with this pace?” Holly panted as they twirled.
That was it! He could tire them out. Leave them winded and take her back to their seats. He could slip away under the pretense of getting them drinks. That was a chance! One that didn’t cause a huge scene for them. “What can I say? Pipsqueak’s lessons really worked.”
“You tripped earlier!” Holly protested, nearly tripping herself in her attempt to keep up.
“That was your fault, and you know it!” Cup’s eyes flickered down to her painted lips as he brought her around him.
The confusion left them as she smirked back up at them, her eyes confident. “Is that a challenge?”
He chuckled softly. “I can make it one,” he replied. They spun faster, each hope, step, and flick becoming more complicated with the passing moments. What would it be like if he took that as an invitation and just did it? What would a kiss with her feel like? A real one. Not that garbage of them crashing into each other, painful and jarring with a clink of teeth hitting each other. But something soft and deliberate. Where he would cup her cheek, feel her close to him. Different from her gasping breath and heaving chest from this mad pace of a song.
What if he just . . . let it all happen? Just let her ask that question. Talk to her. Not fight it. Finish off this night the way she probably wanted it to go. There could be a second date. A third. He doubted they’d be the mush that Mugs and Cala were. Holly was more reserved than that. It’d be quiet evenings on the couch, her nose in a book, shoulders pressed together. There would be hectic days with essays due, because she’d go back to school. Big talks on big stages as she took the world by storm. He’d stand off to the side of the stage or in the front row to give her moral support. She’d sell her magical inventions and share her mystic discoveries, and he’d have her back. Coffee in the mornings. Reminders to eat lunch. Dragging her away from her desk with teasing words and puns. Times he’d have to throw her over his shoulder because stars above could she be stubborn as hell.
She wouldn’t let him sneak away for some work or another. Not if she thought it was dangerous. She’d do something stupid like ship herself after him. Pop out of a box on the other side of the world like a damn showgirl from a cake. Give him a starfallen heart attack. Because she’d have his back as much as he had hers. She wouldn’t let him suffer alone. And that was the problem wasn’t it? She’d suffer with him.
He’d be the one to kill the light. He’d wipe away that smile and strip her of that zeal and fill her eyes with pain. There was no way his future wasn’t going to be full of suffering and struggle.
That damn letter, like a cussing worm wriggling on a hook came to mind. It claimed they’d be free. That someday they’d have a chance at something of a life. Mocking him with the potential. A sunblazing hope that he’d clung to for so long that it burned. It hurt to hope anymore. It was almost easier to imagine going down in some blaze of glory and not letting that damn hellspawn get what he wanted.
That scenario seemed more likely at least.
And where would that leave her? What the hell would that do to her? She’d never forgive him. She’d never forgive that hellspawn in the underworld. And somehow he knew she’d figure it all out if it came to that. She was too smart for her own good. And would she be able to leave it alone?
He couldn’t do it. Not to her. Not to sweet, clever, ambitious Holly May.
The realization of that made the shaky grasp on his feelings swim because he did care about her that much. That meant, he could-- did feel that way about her. Because he could see it. A whole future. Together. A dream. Cussing ironic that having a real future to dream about was a hundred times scarier than imagining the Devil’s cruelest death.
With the realization came the resolve. He wouldn’t ruin her life. He’d do whatever was necessary to keep her safe. He could do that for her. Even if he ended up hating himself for it every day after.
The song came to a close. They were both breathless, clinging onto each other as they left the floor. Holly glanced at him. “Bendy better have seen that,” she laughed. “Because if he didn’t, I’m not doing it again.”
“Yeah,” Cup huffed. “And if that cusser gloats, I’m callin’ him pipsqueak to his face for the rest of the week. He doesn’t get to claim all the credit.” They both laughed, and Holly butted her head against his shoulder, grinning. The warmth seemed to sink past his coat and shirt.
“You wanna sit, and I can go get us a couple a drinks?” Cuphead offered.
Holly nodded, swallowing. “I might need that. Where’s the nearest chair? Or does the floor count?”
“Don’t make me carry you,” Cup warned.
Holly blushed again, but it was a warm kind of blush accompanied by a smile. “That’s probably for the best. If you carried me anything like last time, I’d end up flashing the whole party.”
“Oh stars, Holly!” Cup barely stopped his voice from rising, instead dropping it into a hiss. He snorted and had to look away from her, his face heating.
She smirked at him. “I didn’t know your face could turn that shade. I think it suits you.”
This. Hurt. It hurt, but he couldn’t help himself. Like getting too close to a flame after spending hours out in the snow and ice. He felt brittle. Like one little push would make him crack. Cuss him. “Let’s just get off this floor before we get swept away in the next song.” Holly giggled. Cup led her to a chair at the edge of the party. She really did seem exhausted, leaning back heavily as she sat and closing her eyes as he left to go ‘get some drinks.’
Holly caught the edge of his jacket as he went to leave. “You’ll sit down and listen after you come back?” she asked, determination in her eyes.
This was going to hurt her. He knew she’d be confused and upset. That was better than the alternative. Better that he just not give her the chance to be direct because stars knew he knew how to shoot someone down. He was a pro. “. . .Yeah.” Cup smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be right back.”
Cup made his way to the other side of the huge room, well out of sight of Holly and Bendy still on the dance floor. He’d find a side exit and make his way back to the city. He wasn’t going to play cat and mouse all night in a risky joint like this. If there was any fallout, it’d be better handled back at the house tomorrow. Or never. There were untrustworthy eyes here. It was just too dangerous.
He slipped out a door into a hall that seemed quieter. He made his way down, taking a few turns and cutting through a drawing room before finding a door out. The night air was chilly, crisp, and full of the scent of the flowers from the gardens. The brittle feeling hit him like a truck, and he paused. He glanced down at the palm of his glove, the stain of lipstick there.
He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to hurt her, leave her, ruin whatever this was. He wanted to be selfish . To just go back and tell her everything and make a stupid promise they would figure it out. A lump formed his throat. If he went back, he’d get her killed or worse. Because that’s what he was good at. Killing and ruining and destroying. And he wouldn’t allow it. He closed his fist around the mark. With a shaky breath, Cuphead started to walk again.
Halfway there. He weaved his way through the garden paths, not looking hurried but walking with purpose.
“Well, well, what do we have here?”
Cup turned, his brows high with surprise. Fanny Cottontail was seated on a garden bench, enclosed on three sides by bushes. The moon cast its silvery light on her beaded dress, making it glitter like stars. She was leaning on her arm, eyes heavy. “Fanny?”
“No, the cussing Eashter Bunny!” she snapped, her voice a little slurred. “Whadda ya think, genius?”
Cup hesitated, torn between his escape and wanting to understand what he stumbled across. “What are ya doin’ here?”
“Shick of that damn party. Shcumwad chesspool. Didn’t think it’d be like-Cuss.” Fanny shook her head in disgust. She stopped, raising a hand to her head, and pouted. “Can’t leave until those morons are ready to go though. If I walk outta here alone, those cusshing cameramen are gonna snap a hundred shots before I can say anything.”
She didn’t want her picture taken? Cup furrowed his brows. Well she was obviously drunk so . . . But he felt like he was only getting half a story here. He didn’t know how sober she was to really explain herself either. “How much have you drunk?”
“Cuss you, dishface!” she hissed.
This was such a bad idea. “Want me to help ya get home? We can avoid those paparazzi together.” Cup grimaced.
Fanny frowned. “Ya don’t wanna help. Just go away.”
“No, really. I won’t say a word,” Cup said. “Or you can just sit out here until you sober up or Dovil finds you.”
Fanny furrowed her brows. Her eyes became piercing. “What’sh your angle?”
“I’m heading out now and a taxi can fit more than one.” Cup shrugged.
“Fine, but try anything and I’ll claw yur eyes out.” Fanny sighed and stood up. She swayed to the point Cup jumped to catch her. “I’m fine! I can walk!” She failed to try and push him away. Yeah right.
“What the hell ‘caused you to drink this much? The champagne really that good?” Cup joked weakly.
“Cussh you. It’s not any of your sunblazing bus-businesshhh!” Fanny tried to sound fierce but with her stumbling and pout, it came out more as a whine. “I just wanna go home an’ forget all of it.”
Stars, if he couldn’t agree to that. He doubted he’d ever forget this night though.
The next song started to play. Holly was giddy—and nervous—with anticipation. She had to admit, she wondered if she had been trying too hard. Trying too hard to have a comeback for every sly remark. But at some point, it had started to become more natural than she’d expected.
She was going to take this chance by the horns. Maybe her only chance to explore these feelings. And honestly, she’d been having a lot of fun. Not the party itself. The gambling had been okay. The dancing had been okay. The crowds had been stifling. The food--Well, the food had been amazing. But what had made this whole experience enjoyable had been spending time with Cup. Just the two of them together. It made her wish she’d realized how much fun it was to be together before.
They had more things in common than she realized. Snark for one. She wasn’t afraid of hurting feelings with him. She could be as sharp-tongued as she was in her journals. Not that she wasn’t herself around the others, but there was a degree of reservation depending on her own personal comfort. And he had penetrated that.
Holly pulled out her compact and checked her makeup. Surprisingly, everything was still in place. Not because of her own work, but because of Red. She was some sort of magician with makeup and hair. Holly was grateful. This was the one day she cared about not looking like a complete mess.
Honestly, she needed a couple minutes to catch her breath. And calm her nerves. She had to admit, she was afraid of getting rejected. It would be embarrassing. She probably would need a day or two to just scream into a pillow, but even if he did, she’d deal with it. They had been through worse. And she cared about him too much to let embarrassment of all things drive her away.
She had been terrified to say those words ‘What if I want you to?’ Honestly, the moment she’d said them she’d wanted to scream out of sheer embarrassment. They’d seemed so meaningful in her head but had sounded so cheesy spoken out loud. And then, there’d been those heart-pounding moments of waiting for his answer. For a moment, she’d thought he’d understood. For a moment, she’d wanted to snatch those words back and shove them into her mouth again. She hadn’t been ready for the answer. She hadn’t been ready for him to know how she felt. And then she’d been met with classic Cup snark. Holly laughed to herself. Well, insinuations had never been her strong point, and Cup was a blunt sort of person anyways. She had thought he had understood . . . but he wouldn’t have ignored her if he had. Would he?
The song that had started a moment ago ended. Holly frowned and closed her compact, slipping it into her clutch. It had been only one song Cup had been gone but a strange feeling settled on her shoulders. Where was he? Had he been caught up in a conversation? She wouldn’t be surprised with this crowd and everyone’s interest in him. She got up and headed towards the hors d’oeuvres table. The crowd was tight and opinionated. Where, a moment ago, she’d been at the center, directing the flow, now the current shoved her this way and that carelessly. It was as if Cup had been a boat protecting her, and now she was in the water. Holly squared her shoulders and pushed through stubbornly. The crowd cleared up around the food but Holly saw no sign of Cuphead. She hovered there, uncertain where to go to look for him. She turned in a circle slowly, head craned, trying to see through the crowd. A tendril of unease curled in her stomach.
The room full of people, an intimidating but interesting background before now seemed like a wave smothering her, making it hard to breathe. Holly turned to the punch bowl and poured herself that glass Cup had promised her, drinking half before taking another breath.
Okay, okay. Where else could Cup be? She looked around the room. Mugs. She would try with him next. What direction had she seen him and Cala go? With Cala’s ‘hair,’ she should have been easy to spot but pushing through the crowd Holly had no luck. She glanced back at the chair where she’d been sitting but there was still no Cup. The tendril in her stomach twisted tighter, twining with other threads. Thoughts she didn’t dare allow rise to comprehension. They strangled her mind, making it go strangely silent, as if in her mind she were holding her breath.
No. He wouldn’t be so cruel.
Holly shook her head, trying to focus. If Mugs was somewhere out of sight, that’s probably where Cup was too. Mob business? Was there some sort of danger? Had someone kidnapped them again? It wasn’t unwarranted. Cup had been turned into a cup, been carried off by a griffin, and been kidnapped multiple times. And the man attracted trouble like carrion attracted vultures.
Someone had probably taken advantage of the fact that he was still healing and--She shook her head again. If there was trouble, she needed to find the others. She’d seen Bendy and Boris sneaking outside earlier. She would look there.
It was hard to move fast in heels, but Holly managed a trot. She was nearing the parking area, passing an entrance to the garden when a familiar pair exited. “This place is a cussing bust,” a chicken snorted, scuffing his foot. Her memory informed her he was Ronald from the card game. “Why is it that some guys pick up gorgeous dames like pocket change and guys like us can’t even get a how-do-ya-doodle-do?”
James the toad gave a low ribbit. “It’s the face. And gals think they can reform mooks like him. In the end, guys like him always go home with frisky dames like the rabbit though. If I had to guess, the other one was too naive and doe-eyed for--”
A wing smacked the toad in the mouth as Ronald made eye contact with Holly. There was a long moment as they stared at each other. And it was uncomfortable too. Holly swallowed and attempted to go around the chicken.
“Hey sweet thing, wanna hang with us?” The chicken winked at her. The toad ribbited, blushing.
“Uh . . .” Holly’s discomfort grew. “I’m sorry, I’m looking for my date. It was nice seeing you again though.” Just be polite. Just get going.
“Ah, that’s gonna just be a waste of time at this point.” Ronald snickered. “But you do you. If it helps, I’d look at the south end. There’s a back gate leading to the road. Feel free to come find us after.”
The two of them disappeared into the mansion, snickering, leaving Holly on the steps. The twine of string in her stomach shifted, turning to a knot.
Something that could only be called pure instinct pulled her through the gardens. In a way, it felt like she was watching herself rather than living the experience. This was just a strange moment in a string of strange moments. It would be over soon. She’d find out that her worries were silly anxieties and everything would be back to what it was like a moment ago.
Holly found herself alone in a hallway, leading to the back of the house. She stepped out of a side door at the end of the garden, near the road. There were only a few things living in the garden, mostly evergreens. Her namesake hung from above a set of swinging chairs, waiting for the unwary or bold.
There was a rumble from the road. A taxi idled as it waited for two figures to get inside. The headlights stole their forms, making them only cutouts, living shadows. Suddenly, the first swayed and the second lurched forward to catch her. They moved out of the light just enough that Holly could see their faces in addition to knowing their forms.
The rabbit seemed to snap something, shaking a fist, before she seemed to sink a little. Cup kept a hand on her elbow. Cup said something, Holly couldn’t hear them. Fanny’s ears perked, and her head flew back as her laughter rang out. Cup waved at her to quiet. Fanny poked him in the chest, wearing a teasing smile as she spoke and leaned into his side. Cuphead rolled his eyes but didn’t step away. Fanny couldn’t stay on her feet. Cup leaned forward and slid his hands under her knees straightening her into a princess carry. They ducked inside the cab and the door shut a moment later. Holly watched this all in complete stillness and silence, her hand on a japanese maple.
Holly should have been mad. And she was. But more than anything else, she was hurt. And utterly confused. Had she done something wrong? Sure, she had always known Cup liked Fanny more than her, but she’d seen that wane recently as he let go of her. At least, she thought she had. Even if it hadn’t, she didn’t deserve this. She didn’t think Cup would ever be so cruel.
She was no fool. Cuphead wasn’t stupid. If he’d done this, he’d done it deliberately, for whatever reason. And that showed a disregard for her that she didn’t understand. She’d thought they mattered more to each other than that. Had she hurt him in some way? Was he getting back at her because of it?
Sharpness stung her eyes, and Holly reached up to touch her tears, her brow furrowed. The truth was obvious though. He had understood perfectly what she meant. And he had been so repulsed by the idea that he had disappeared the first chance he’d gotten. It’d probably been a cherry on top for him, leaving with Fanny. Instead of facing an embarrassing childish crush, he had been able to spend time with the woman he found irresistibly attractive.
The tears were hot, and even though she tried to hold them back, her thoughts weren’t helping. Each new consideration stung, embarrassing and painful into her chest.
She didn’t want to go back into the party. She wouldn’t be able to stand it. And now her face was mottled and splotchy. Embarrassing. She couldn’t even cry without everyone knowing. Seeing the swing from before, she sat down, covering her face. Gritting her teeth, she tried to hold back the tears. She took in dry breaths, keeping them quiet so no one could hear her crying. She pulled her legs up onto the bench and pressed her face into them.
She wiped her hand across her face to see a line of mascara. Stupid. She was even ruining Red’s nice work. So much for her being beautiful. She’d wanted to look her best. But she was just a mess.
How would she ever be able to go to granny’s ever again?
She didn’t want anyone to know.
She was so embarrassed.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” a slow drawl hummed to her left.
Holly flinched, sniffing. She looked up. He was a rabbit. His fur was dark as night, a light stripe of fur around his throat like a collar. His suit was as fine as anyone’s at this party, though he stood a bit slouched, his eyelids only half-mast as if he was considering falling asleep. He had his coat tucked under his arm, revealing his vest and dress shirt. A pocket watch chain gleamed from his waist pocket. He leaned forward, almost around the bench as if there was a line he wasn’t allowed to cross.
She looked away, mortified that someone had caught her crying. “Do you need something?”
There was a soft snort from him. “Nah. Not really. Just wanted to escape the noise for a minute.” He pointed up at his large ears, pale in the inner ear except for the very tips. “They get sensitive.” He raised a brow. “Though, I’m sure you don’t really care about that or me at the moment.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. He held it out, still not taking a step toward her or even fully turning to her.
Uncertainly, Holly reached out and took it. She wiped at her cheeks, cleaning up the dreadful mascara trails as best she could. Her nose was ugly stuffy, which she hated. She blew her nose, wincing at the undignified sound. She wrapped her arms around her knees, clutching the handkerchief when she was done. “Thank you,” she said looking up at him.
“Eh.” He shrugged indifferently. “Didn’t do a thing.” He tilted his head. “Though, if you want, I could be some company in these deary times.” He raised his brows, peeked at her from the corner of lazy eyes. “Mostly because it’d feel pretty crumby to leave a nice girl out here to cry alone. But also because, at least for me, I’ve found talkin’ to a stranger can sometimes be refreshing when things are rather dim.” He shrugged again, as if he was fine with it either way. “Would put these ears to good use at least.”
She pressed her lips against her knees. “I’d rather not talk about it,” she confessed. “But you can sit down. If you want.”
“Would you rather I talk?” He offered. The rabbit turned but didn’t move from his spot.
Holly considered. “That could be nice.”
“Alright,” He lifted a hand with a limp wave and took a step to sink into the seat on the far end of the bench from her. He leaned back, somehow making the bench look far more comfortable than it was. “I came here tonight because of my boss. He told me it would be real shindig, but boy was he off! I’ve had more fun on the pier with only one day of sleep for three.” The rabbit sighed. “If it got any stuffier in there, they’d be able to sell it as a child’s toy.” He smirked. There was a glint in his eyes.
“I guess that makes two of us disappointed by this party,” Holly commented dryly.
“Maybe, I still have hope for something interestin’ to come around. The night’s not over yet,” he pointed out. “And it can’t be a total bust. I got to meet a nice girl like you after all.” He smiled in her direction. “Besides, there’s always tomorrow’s adventure. Whatever that could be.” He laced his fingers in front of himself and leaned forward.
“I’m a little bit sick of adventures at this point,.” Holly sighed. “No offense to the ideal. Moving forward is healthy. I just . . . am tired of things going wrong.” She wiped at her eyes. “Maybe I’m just tired.”
The rabbit blinked slowly. He had strangely hypnotic eyes. They were light, which contrasted sharply with his dark fur. Almost making them seem like they could glow. “I want to ask what kind of adventures. I really want to ask. But that’s not a topic to dive into if you’re tired.” He hummed and looked up at the starry sky. “Sounds like you’re in line for something good next. Everything can’t go wrong all the time after all, right?”
Holly hummed. “Have you ever been in a place in life where you have no idea which direction you’re supposed to be going? There’s just a whole lot of empty space in front of you. It could go anywhere, so you’re lost, like you’re floating in the ocean, with no land in sight?” She paused. “Sorry, that was a bit metaphorical, wasn’t it?”
He smiled. “I don’t mind metaphors. Though, I’m not one to fight the tides if I’m lost, only when I have a direction in mind. Otherwise I’ll let the current take me to exciting unknown shores. Sometimes it’s great and sometimes it isn’t, but that’s life.” He raised his brows, leaning back into the chair. “How’s that for a metaphor?”
“Decent.” Holly put her chin on her knees. “You stole my ocean theme, so a little unoriginal, but I’ll take it.” She smiled at him so he would know it was a joke.
He gasped, a hand to his chest. “I thought we were both sailors on the sea of life. Ah well. Guess I’m overboard for that one.” He smirked, humor in his lazy gaze.
“I’ll give you a lifeboat. Who knows? Maybe you can redeem yourself.” It was nice to do a little bit of harmless banter. It took her mind off things. “Where has the ocean taken you?”
‘What a considerate lady. She doesn’t leave me to drown.” He snickered. “As for your question, I’ve been to a couple of shores in my short life. I’m originally from Italy, but moved here as a child. Life has taken me to a few interesting paths, some I chose and some that chose me. I’d like to think Lady Lucky has a bit of a crush on me.” He winked. Holly snort-laughed. “Though I really am a bit of a jack of the trades with passing interests. What about yourself? What has your passing fancy?”
“History mostly,” Holly said carefully. “Ancient languages. It’s never been passing for me though. I’ve had an interest in it since I was very little.”
He tilted his head. His eyes darted back, as if to see the mansion that was out of view before going back to her. “I’m going to be honest, that’s not what I expected. Ancient languages? As a child? What got you going down that stream?” He folded his hands in front of him and leaned the side of his face on his knuckles. The lazy look didn’t change, but the glint in his eyes did. He was curious.
“My father taught me when I was little, all sorts of things about an ancient people called the micco and how to read their language. It helped that there were ruins nearby as well, so seeing some things in real life sparked my interest.” She smiled, thinking about the old ruins. “They were like nothing we know in our day. They were so different and fascinating.”
“Yeah? How different?” the rabbit asked, shifting to turn toward her more. “I’ve neva’ heard of these miccos folks. What were they like?”
Holly grinned. She couldn’t help it. The micco just sparked something inside her that made her feel whole and alive. “There’s evidence that they had cities far more advanced than ours, not based on technology but on magic. One of them flew through the air. One of them was built deep in the ocean. And legend has it, one of them was set in the very center of a volcano. They had magic that could mimic things the other races did, like flying or breathing underwater. They could even construct stone guardians that would come to life.”
The rabbit’s ears flicked. He whistled and straightened. He looked out at the garden. “Learned a bit of show magic, but that blows me outta the water.” He lifted his hand and flicked his fingers. A card appeared between two fingers. A jack. “Flying cities? Breathing underwater?” He flicked his fingers again, and the card vanished. “Why did people forget neat stuff like that? I wanna breathe underwater.”
“I’m not sure,” Holly admitted. “It must have been a part of whatever wiped out the micco race.” She gestured to his hand where the card had been. “Bring it back.”
He chuckled and waved his hands across from each other. The card reappeared again. “Wiped them out? How? They could live in all those wild places. I’d think they’d survive anything.” He offered the card to her.
She took it, and reached to the side to grab her clutch. She pulled out the little piece of chalk she’d learned to always carry there. “That’s why I wanted to be an archeologist. I want to find out.” She started to scribble on the card. “And more than that. I want to revive their practices.” She sat back in satisfaction. She tapped the symbol she’d drawn on the card, activating it.
A soft white glow emanated from it, brightening their faces. She grinned at him. His eyes widened, for the first time not looking lazy. “I want to start a shop of magical things. Not of old things. But new things.”
“Hot dog, now isn’t that quite the trick,” he murmured. His hand was half up, as if he wanted to touch it. “Ya don’t say? New magic.”
Holly relished the wonder in his eyes. It was a feeling she was very familiar with. She handed the card back to him. “New magic.” He looked at it like he half expected it to speak to him. The wonder had shifted to curiosity. The easygoing appearance returned, but he turned the card in his fingers, staring at the rune. “Can I do that too?” His eyes darted over to her.
Holly nodded. She let the rune lapse, and the light went out. “You try. Touch it.” The rabbit raised a brow, turning his head curiously at the symbol before pressing a finger to it. “Now, feel the energy of it and push,” she coaxed.
“Energy?” he asked. His eyes remained focused on the card though.
“From you, connecting to it,” she explained.
His large ears folded back, as he focused. There was a flicker before light appeared.The rabbit’s ears jumped up again, and he smirked. “Neat. Gotta card and a light.” He looked back over at her. “So when’s that shop of yours opening?”
Holly ducked her head. “Well. It’s just an idea right now. I have to design the runes, work with my friend to make the physical parts. Not to mention, we have to raise the money for rent and materials and start everything. And then there’s the quest.” She paused. “My friend is one of the questers.”
The rabbit’s eyes narrowed. The light went out, plunging them into darkness. “The questers. The fellas from the papers a while back?” He hummed. “I thought I saw one o’ them around there. Huh.” Holly’s chest pricked painfully. Holly’s eyes readjusted to the dark. The rabbit had folded his ankle over his knee and was tapping the side of his shoe with his finger. The card was nowhere in sight.
“Yes. When I said adventures . . . Well, I meant literally. Terrible things happened.” Holly shook her head, pushing away her thoughts of the Labyrinth. The nightmares they all had were enough.
“That’s rough work.” He nodded to her. “My respects. Lotta people have a lotta hope riding on them. On you. Can’t be easy.”
Holly bit her lip and nodded. She stood up. “I think I need to go now. Thank you for helping me feel better.” She paused looking at the snotty wet handkerchief. “What’s your name?”
He waved the handkerchief off. “Charlie, but you can call me Lucky. All my friends do.” He smiled. “I’m glad I could be of service.”
“Thanks Cha-Lucky,” she said meaningfully with a warm smile. “My name is Holly.”
He stood and offered a hand to her. “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Holly.”
She took it. To her surprise, instead of a handshake, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. She felt her face heat up. “Oh, and one more thing before ya go.” Lucky smirked. His eyes bright with humor. “When ya get that little shop going, consider givin’ me a call as an investor. World needs a lil’ more magic in it.” He winked at her and let her hand go.
Holly’s eyes widened, and she took in a quick breath, excitement running through her. “How should I contact you?” she asked.
He leaned forward, surprisingly close. His hand came up, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. He pulled his hand back, a card in his fingers. He grinned teasingly. “My number. Unless you figure out a different magical way.”
Holly laughed. “I could think of a few ways, but this is easier.” She took the card from him. She turned away but paused as she was about to turn the corner. “Thanks again.”
He lifted a hand, in a wave. “Don’t worry about it. This was probably the best conversation I’ve had all night. Take care.”
She nodded, waving back at him before turning to go.