Cherry - part 1

Cherry

Pink

The ballroom was beautiful as ever, with the classic style interior, three full buffets, which was barely touched, since most of the people in this society usually was on a diet. She often wondered when they ate, and in that case, what they ate. Most of the people in this room - of those she recognized, of course - was people she had never seen eat anything. They sure did drink a lot, and because they rarely ate, or not at all, they got awfully drunk. And when they got drunk, they started talking. It seemed like no one really liked talking, and therefore it must be avoided at any cost. Luckily, people was self-centered enough - or drunk enough - not to notice their blabbering. They all had servants, who quickly tucked them into their expensive cars and let the driver get them home. That is also why no one ever wonders, if someone suddenly goes missing. She wandered about in her pink dress. Was this her pink dress number 8? 9, perhaps? The thought flees her mind as quickly as it had entered, as she came to think about all the fine dresses in her walk-in-closet, and decided it was useless to start counting them. Her fine, light brown hair dingle down and tickled her arms as she walked gracefully towards the other side of the room. She could not really enjoy this as she had when she was a kid. This had become an everyday thing for her, ballrooms and people dressed in their finest, or at least some of their finest. All the fancy food and the drinks with sparkling color... None of it seemed to get to her anymore. It hadn’t done that for years. She did remember when she was fifteen, and her mom let her walk in real, high heels for the first time at a ball. That one was exciting. She had worn smaller heels before, but nothing like 6 inches. She had worn a summer dress, yellow and short, so everyone could see her shoes. But what she remembered mostly about that ball, was her anxiety to walk. Her mother had mocked her for not walking a step more than she had to, but she meant it well.

Her father was somewhere in the room, probably not with her mother. She started looking around the room. She was eighteen now, and her ability to walk in heels had increased these past few years. She didn’t have to walk far, though, before she heard her moms shrilling, drunk voice pinch in her ears, calling her name.

“Cherry! Oh, Cherry, darling, there you are!” She seemed more than thrilled to have found her. “Yes, mother.” Cherry replied, embarrassed, as she saw who she was with. It was Vaughn Cryx, a researcher at one of her fathers companies. Her father owned most of the town, so more than 90 percent of the people in the room was working for him. They did not seem to fear him, though. Maybe because of the booze. Vaughn Cryx had a son, Percival Cryx, who was just the same age as she, also just graduated. They had taken several classes together, and during the past year, she had grown fond of Percival. Not that they talked much, but he was a hardworking boy, who knew what he wanted. She admired that. Now, seeing her mother, drunk, almost harassing Mr. Cryx, was horrifying. Now he could go home and tell his wife about this horrible ball, where the hostess was drunk. Please, she thought to herself, please don’t tell Percival.

“Mr. Cryx, what a pleasure to see you here. It has been a long time.” She says, shoving her mother to the side. In the corner of her eye, she sees how her mother is almost tripping, yet no one seems to notice. No one other than a servant reacts, and he takes her mother upstairs, nearly carrying her. Cherry shakes Vaughn Cryx’s hand.

“Miss Waltz, indeed a pleasure. How are you, now the exams are over?” Mr. Cryx is always nice. He is somewhere between 43 and 47, she never really got to know, but he looks young of his age. She thinks about Percival, and how she can ask if he brought him here. He almost never does, and if so, one of them gets drunk, and then they all leave at once.

“I am quite fine. It is a relief. But I suppose you know... from Percival.” There is a long pause, and Mr. Cryx doesn’t look her in the eye as he finally answers.

“Uhm, yes. It is a relief for him as well.”

“Did you bring him today? I would like to congratulate him, as we hardly spoke at the graduation.” She smiles, not too hopefully. Her blue eyes gets to him.

“In fact I did. I figured he might need a night out.” There is yet another pause. It got awkward.

“I don’t know where he is...” He slowly confesses. “I’ll find him.” She cheers, and turns from him. She doesn’t know why Mr Cryx is so uncomfortable every time she mentions him, which almost never happens. She looks for him for minutes before she sits to relax her feet. He might have left, and the people running around in fine clothes are too many for her to see the difference.

And then she spots him. There, at the other end of the wall, further away than it seems, she knows that, talking to a pretty girl in a dress, much like the one Cherry is wearing. She walks towards him, but as she approaches, the notice how pretty that girl he is talking to actually is, and she feels more selfconscious than she can bear at the moment. No, this could wait. He might have gotten a girlfriend, even though she never heard of him having one. She is about to turn away, when he sees her. Their eye contact last for several seconds, and she knows she has to go over there. It is plain etiquette, as she has learned from all the lessons from the maids and servants.

“Mr. Cryx.” She says, without looking at the pretty girl.

“Cherry.” He says it as if it was a request. Tasting the word in his mouth, complete silence falls among them. Cherry gets uncomfortable.

“Congratulations!” She spurts out, as if the word was explosive vomit, ready to burst out at any time. And it did. She had to save it.

“I mean, I wanted to congratulate you on the graduation. I know it was a week ago, but I barely even saw you at the graduation, and I figured, since we had some classes together, that I wanted to... congratulate you...” She finds herself in the same position as a child does, when it has done something wrong, and explains oneself in a hurry. But he barely seems to notice, as he says: “Thank you, you too. I heard you did well.” She nods towards him once. It was meant to be a yes, but it just never got there. Suddenly, she remembers the pretty girl, and her manners, and she turns around as gracefully as she can.

“Hello,” she says slowly, but confident, as offer her hand, “I’m Cherry Waltz. I live here.” The second she says it, she wants to disappear. Everyone knows the Waltz family, and the I live here comment was just too stupid and almost bragging. The pretty girl shakes her hand, as if it was on fire. “I’m Cathy.” Cathy is blond and her dress is also pink. Cherry feels a sudden rush of discomfort, and excuses herself. That did not go as she wanted, not at all. She looks back at Percival and Cathy, and they are talking again. As if they never even noticed she was there.