Chapter Text
Finally, Dash saw the girl from earlier break away from the crowd and head over to the snacks. He quickly excused himself from his conversation with two of Priya’s boarding school friends (not that he was participating that much anyway) and headed over in the girl’s direction, lingering on the other end of the table.
Now that he was closer, he could finally get a better look at her. From this angle, he could tell that she was definitely Asian. (He wasn’t sure before and he didn’t want to make any assumptions, as a white man). He hadn’t noticed her before she had laughed at his Home Alone 2 explanation, but seeing her now, he wasn’t sure why. In her oversized, green sweater amidst this stupid party full of rich kids, she stood out like a sore thumb. Her hair was pulled back by a few hair clips and she didn’t appear to have any makeup on. She was the only person in the room who looked like an actual teenager instead of a kid trying to parade around as an adult.
He watched curiously as she piled her plate with all sorts of finger foods Priya’s caterer had laid out. He was sure she was the only new person here; he wasn’t exactly a social butterfly at parties, but he had met every single person in the room - a consequence of being with Sofia. (“Now you’re following her around like some mute, zombie Ken doll,” Boomer had said earlier. Dash immediately pushed the thought out of his head.) She must at least know Priya, since this was her party. But she didn’t seem like the type of company Priya usually kept around her. Judging from the girl’s body language— her focused attention on her food, the way she ducked her head— she probably didn’t know a single other person at this party either. His chest twinged in sympathy; he knew exactly what it was like to be in that position.
He grabbed a cup and poured out some punch for himself (Priya’s caterers always added some vodka in the punch, and although he had no intention of getting drunk, he needed a little buzz for what he was about to do), edging closer, still observing her as discreetly as he could. The tinsel on her sweater glistened under the lights and he found his opening.
“That’s a nice sweater,” he said.
She looked up in surprise at his voice, then eyed him sceptically. “I’m aware that I look ridiculous, thanks.”
It was true that she seemed to have missed the dress code. He had thought her interesting and bold for it, but he hadn’t realised it until now, how uncomfortable it might make her feel. Immediately, he felt embarrassed. “No, no, no, I’m sorry, you look great. I look ridiculous,” he said in earnest. He gestured towards his brand new Armani dress pants and made a face. “Look at these pants. They’re, like, fancy.”
The girl raised an eyebrow at him as if he had proven a point, and he felt himself cringe as he realised how much of a wanker he sounded like. “God, this is not coming out the way I wanted it to,” he said, rubbing at his neck awkwardly. “I’m sorry. Let me try that again. I think that rich people parties with formal dress codes are lame, and I think your outfit is super cool for not following that. And yes, I fully acknowledge that I say that as a white man in designer apparel that I bought just for tonight and feel totally ridiculous in.”
The girl snorted sarcastically, but the guardedness disappeared fractionally from her expression. “Just for the record, I hate it when people label sweaters ugly,” she said.
It was clear that she still felt uncomfortable about the topic, but he recognised an out when he saw one. “Well then, I would like to say that yours is unconventionally attractive,” he said, hoping to lighten the mood. (God, how does Sofia do this so effortlessly?)
She regarded him wordlessly for a moment, trying to sniff out any hint of disdain. Dash felt his ears heat up under her scrutiny, but he was determined not to scare her away. Finally, she seemed to decide that he was being genuine, offering him a small, pacificatory smile. “Thanks,” she said. Then she hesitated for another moment, seeming to weigh up her next words. She looked at him again, the barest hint of excitement in her eyes, and said, “Check this out.” She pushed a hidden button within her sleeve and some lights he hadn’t noticed before glowed blue amongst the tinsel. She stretched her arms above her head, her hands coming together in a point.
“Oh! You’re a Christmas tree!” he exclaimed, stepping back to admire her outfit in its entirety. “See, this is what the dress code for a Christmas party should be.”
It must’ve been the right thing to say because her entire expression lit up. “Right? The creative sweaters are meant to be the best part of any Christmas party,” she said. Then she looked up at him shyly. “Would you think I’m weird if I told you I’ve been dying to show someone that the whole night?”
At that, he let out a chuckle and inched closer to her, ever so slightly. “Of course not, why would you think that’s weird?”
She snorted a laugh. “Well, you are a white man in designer apparel you bought just for tonight,” she replied, a smirk playing at her lips.
He clutched at his chest in mock pain. “Ooft. That hurt.”
She let out a giggle and turned to face him properly. “Alright. In the spirit of the holiday season and body positivity for clothing, I think your pants are beautiful on the inside.”
He choked on his drink.
“Metaphorically speaking,” she said quickly, her eyes wide in panic. “Not literally. I don’t know what’s in your pants. What they’re like on the in… inside.” She cleared her throat uncomfortably and turned away, adding some macaroons onto her plate with intense focus.
Dash watched her for a moment, surprised by her sudden awkwardness. And yes, if he was being completely honest with himself, he thought she was cute. (So what if his love life’s a shit show right now? He’s allowed to be a sixteen-year-old boy with healthy hormonal impulses!) His chest twinged with sympathy again when he noticed that she was blushing in embarrassment and he decided to put her out of her misery.
“How do you know Priya?” he asked.
“Who’s that?” she replied through a mouthful of macaroon.
He blinked in confusion. “That’s her macaroon you’re eating,” he said slowly, gesturing towards her plate.
She looked back at her plate, realising how much food she had taken, and looked at him sheepishly. “Oh.” She tugged at a loose piece of tinsel, avoiding his gaze, before looking up at him again with an awkward smile. “I don’t really know anyone here,” she admitted.
“Huh,” he said, inching closer. “So you’re a burglar, then.”
Immediately, the playfulness returned to her expression, and she looked at him in false offence. “Excuse you! Firstly, I’m a plus one to one of Priya’s guests, even if I don’t know who Priya is. Secondly, if that were true, I would’ve left way earlier, and without saying goodbye to anyone.“
He couldn’t help but grin. “Well, that already makes you better than me. I would’ve left after the first ten minutes of arriving at this joint if I could guarantee I wouldn’t be chewed out. I hate parties like these,” he said.
“That can’t be true,” she replied. “You seemed pretty passionate earlier about convincing everyone that the geography in Home Alone 2 was terrible. And I’ve seen you talking to a couple of other people too.”
“If by ‘talking’ you mean nodding along and occasionally reacting to mediocre stories about high school drama or holiday plans from people I barely know, then sure.” In his periphery, he saw Sofia laughing along to something Priya said, charming her way through a small group of people. If he wasn’t here at the snacks table with this girl, he was sure he’d be by Sofia’s side, waiting awkwardly for her to move on to the next group. “Sometimes you can be at the centre of the crowd and still feel alone,” he said quietly.
He felt her nudge his arm ever so slightly, bringing his attention back to her. She was looking up at him with a strange expression, as if she was reading something in his eyes that he wasn’t conscious of. “If one’s different, then one’s bound to be lonely.”
Her words immediately clicked at something familiar in his mind. “Brave New World,” he said with a smile, impressed.
She looked at him in surprise, but her eyes mirrored the inexplicable fondness for this stranger he was feeling. “Yeah,” she said with a smile that made his chest feel warm.
He returned her smile and held out his hand. “I’m Dash,” he finally said, in what was probably the longest overdue introduction he’d ever done.
She took his hand. Her hand was warm and small in his. “Lily.”
("Dear Lily, I wish you were here with me too.”)
His mouth fell open in shock. He regarded her again with fresh eyes, her short frame, her wide-eyed wonder, her shy smile. Could she be…
“Lily?” he echoed.
Before she could reply, a group of Priya’s ballet friends with empty plates materialised out of nowhere and asked them to move somewhere else. Dash quickly apologised and steered Lily (Lily!?) to a quieter spot in the corner, where she deposited her now-empty plate into a nearby bin.
“Don’t tell me you have a problem with my name now,” she said, half teasing, half worried.
“No, no, no, not at all,” he said quickly, rushing to reassure her. “It’s just that…” Was he supposed to just straight up ask her if she had been communicating with someone in a red notebook recently? She would think he was insane. Hell, sometimes, even he still thought the notebook thing was insane (the best thing that happened to him in recent times, but still insane). Besides, there must’ve been a thousand Lily’s in New York City. It wasn’t exactly the most unique name out there. The odds of her being the same Lily he had been talking to in the red notebook were slim.
“… You’re the second Lily I’ve met in the last couple of weeks,” he finished lamely.
He could tell she was trying to hide her apprehension for his sake, but her eyes revealed that she wasn’t impressed. “Oh,” she said politely, uncomfortably. “It’s a pretty common name, I guess.”
He took another swig of his drink and cleared his throat, eager to move on from the topic. (Why was he embarrassing himself so much tonight?)
“So, uh, who did you come here with?” he asked after a moment.
At that, she sighed. He couldn’t tell if it was out of relief or exhaustion. He hoped it was the former. “Edgar Thibaud,” she said tiredly, nodding in Edgar’s direction.
Dash followed her gaze and saw Edgar doing another one of his stupid ‘party tricks’, pretending to hit his head on the wall only to laugh at anyone who fell for it. Beside him, he heard Lily sigh again (it was definitely an exhausted sigh). “He did that in the cab when he picked me up as well.”
“Edgar’s a wanker,” he said distastefully. “I went to boarding school with him, unfortunately. He just does whatever pops into his head, no matter how stupid or idiotic it is. People seem to like it but personally, I’ve never understood why.” Then he looked at Lily with curiosity. “Why are you here with someone like him?”
She looked pained. “It’s a long story,” she said curtly. Then she nodded over at Sofia, who had managed to captivate an even larger crowd than earlier with whatever story she was telling now. “I’m guessing that girl over there is Priya? She’s been dazzling the room the whole night,” Lily said.
Suddenly, he felt hot under his collar. For some reason, he felt weird about the idea of Lily and Sofia mixing together (And no, it definitely did not have anything to do with the fact that she had the same name as the girl he was developing feelings for in the notebook). “Actually, that’s Priya’s best friend, Sofia,” he said. And then before he could stop himself, he added, “Everyone who meets her absolutely adores her. If there’s any sort of crowd at any party, you can almost guarantee it’s because of her.”
Lily watched him carefully, her expression calculating, but not malicious. “Right,” she drawled out, as if she was in on a joke that he wasn’t. But before he could question her about it, she turned her attention back towards the rest of the room. She nodded at Priya, who was in the middle of reprimanding a couple of guys for playing with an expensive-looking ornament. “That must be Priya then.”
Dash hummed in agreement and took another sip of his drink. “Queen Bee in the flesh. Her dad’s on the board of like, five different organisations and has been on the City Council for years,” he said. They watched as she snatched the ornament out of the tallest guy’s grasp and angrily pointed a finger at them. Dash snorted a laugh and nudged Lily’s arm. “I bet she’s threatening to have her dad ban them from something,” he murmured.
Then, right on cue, Priya’s voice thundered across the room, “Do you know who my father is?! I could have him ban you from ever stepping foot in Madison Square Garden again! Say goodbye to seeing another basketball game live!”
Lily giggled and looked at him in disbelief, her eyes shining. “You know, for someone who claims to barely know the people at this party, you seem to know a lot about the people at this party.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “I only really know Sofia and Priya,” he said. “Everyone else, except for maybe Edgar, I know through them.”
Before she could reply, there was a clatter from the kitchen behind them, followed by male hollering. The universal banshee cry preceding bad ideas. They both turned towards the commotion to see Edgar (because of fucking course it was Edgar ) holding a champagne bottle, grinning widely at everyone before him. “This party’s getting a little too tame, I say we spice it up!” he shouted to cheers. Beside him, Dash noticed Lily shift uncomfortably.
“Edgar, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he heard Priya squawk from somewhere behind him.
But Edgar only guffawed, peeling off the gold foil from the neck of the bottle. “Relax, P! I know what I’m doing!” Then he popped the cork off and started spraying champagne all over the kitchen. Like a band of followers without any sense of critical thinking, his friends only continued to cheer him on. Dash heard Priya shriek in panic again, her heels clicking on the marble tiles as she stormed across the room. Then Edgar’s eyes landed on Lily, and he let out a whoop. “LILY! Everyone, that’s my girl over there!” He started ambling towards her, champagne still flying from the bottle.
Dash saw the next few moments happen in slow motion. Edgar stalking closer, grinning rakishly at Lily, pointing the tip of the bottle towards her. Lily, eyes wide open in terror, bringing her arms up to cover her face as champagne jetted all over her jumper. Her sleeve catching fire as the alcohol coated that hidden button controlling the lights in her sweater, which were still glowing blue.
For one sickening moment, all was quiet.
And then, Lily began to scream.
Instinctively, Dash emptied the rest of his drink onto her sleeve.
(There’s fucking alcohol in the drink, you moron!)
He watched helplessly in shock as the flames licked up the liquid when they touched her sleeve, moving the fire to her torso. She slowly, silently looked up at him in horror, her bottom lip wobbling. Immediately, he felt his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.
(Shit, shit, shit, shit!)
Then, out of nowhere, white foam blanketed her whole body like snow, quickly putting out the fire. He turned around to see Priya holding a fire extinguisher, her expression looking like she was ready to commit murder. But it softened ever so slightly when she saw Lily, her face red covered in foam and looking like she was going to pass out any second.
“B-Bathroom,” Lily struggled out.
“Down the hall to your left,” Priya replied, her perfectly polished face looking concerned, for once.
The next moment, Lily was gone.
The full force of the situation finally hit him, knocking the air out of his lungs, emptying his mind of all else but red, hot shame. “Lily!” he cried, taking a step in her direction. But he was stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder.
“Let her go,” Priya said sternly.
“But I-”
“You’ll make things worse if you follow her right now,” she cut in sharply. “I guarantee you, the only thing she wants right now is some privacy. You can check up on her in a while.”
He hesitated for a moment, still biting back the impulse to go after Lily. But the graveness in Priya’s expression made him second guess himself. He had never seen Priya this serious before. For the first time in the span of the last couple of minutes, he let himself slow down and actually think . And eventually, he realised that Priya was right. If he were in Lily’s position, the last thing he’d want was some stranger he barely knew barging through the door after being humiliated so publicly.
“Fine,” he said after a moment. “But I need to know she’s okay.”
“And you’ll find out in a while,” Priya replied. Then she handed him some paper towels and floor cleaner. “In the meantime, you can clean this mess up.”
Dash looked at her incredulously. “But-”
“Edgar, you piece of shit! ” Priya screamed, her attention and fury already bearing down on her next target. “You’re fucking dead, asshole!”
Dash immediately decided that he’d rather be on clean up duty.