Starting Days

"That was a good game, though!"

Her smile was wide over her face, and as she straightened back up, Nicola nodded towards Madison. Should be easy enough to beat the other girl, right? Stepping back onto the platform, she was just about to tap on one of the arrows and scroll through the list until she decided against it. "Hey Madison, you pick the difficulty and song. Wouldn't be fair if I chose twice in a row." That was partially it, but the other half was because she couldn't recognize half of the songs on the list and would personally rather not admit it out loud. Keeping herself in the center, she cast a few glances to the back every now and then towards Owen while waiting. The game shouldn't be all that bad. The last one was fun, so this one should be too.

Owen jumped down from the platform to allow Madison room. He walked to where she had been watching them, folding his arms and widening his stance to get comfortable. Watching them with a smile, he wondered who exactly was going to win. He expected Nicola to win, but he also desperately wanted to see Madison take charge and win.

“Oh…,” Madison flinched and looked up at the screen, at the list of songs available. She rigidly brought her arm forth, picking what seemed to be the safest song there. The screen faded, returning on a neonic slew of colors, and it began.

Madison’s movements at first were tense, awkward, almost devoid of any dance. She stepped, tried to move as nonchalantly as possible. This, as expected, did not heed results. ‘Miss, Good, Miss, Miss,’ the machine displayed. It was over the song that she slowly become more fluid, working up more of a sweat as she hopped along the arrowed tiles. By the time the song reached its halfway point, Madison had reached a rhythm, had gotten into the song. ‘Great, Perfect, Perfect, Perfect.’ She’d lost all sense of self-consciousness. The song finished, and when she saw the immensity of her score, she focused on Nicola with a half-smile. It felt like forever-ago since the song began. She felt good about her chances of beating Nicola at her suggested game.

She thought it would've been easy to beat Madison. But hell, she didn't expect the song to be so fucking slow.

Her timing was off and her movements had a tendency to constantly skip ahead to the next slew of arrows before they even made it halfway through the screen. It was annoying her that Madison had managed to keep a steady tempo while here she was, still trying to work out what the exact rhythm was. Maybe it was because she always worked in a fast-pace and didn't bother to slow down, but this was ridiculous. Just "misses" and "goods" and failed combos throughout. The best part? She wound up tripping on her own two feet halfway through, falling backwards and scarcely managing to catch her balance with the rail. Entire measures that gave nothing. There was no way she could catch up to Madison's score, now.

Nicola let out a sigh as she stepped back onto the tiles, adjusting her speed until it was decently there. By the end, it was mostly "goods" and "greats" with the rare "perfects", but the combo was much lower than her previous round. Glancing over at Madison, meeting the other girl's eyes, a smile crossed her features as she peered back at the end results. Damn, that difference was much higher than she thought. "'ya know, I think the machine's faulty." She started, one hand reaching to grab her hat from wherever the heck Madison put it before the game started. "That, or I just suck at this big time. Or the even smaller possibility that Madison's just that good."

Owen watched their match with growing amusement. He was impressed that Madison was falling into a strong rhythm, something that seemed to outdo whatever Nicola was doing. His grin slowly widened until he was almost laughing at the end of the round, applauding loudly, much to some other gamers' chagrin around them. He stepped forward as the girls relaxed, placing his hands on the rail and locking his elbows.

"I think Madison's just that good," he told Nicola, looking at the girl who had won. He held a hand up for a high five and hoped he wouldn't have to compete against her. Unlike him, she seemed to have a strong focus.

Madison's shame seemed to leave her with that game, yes. But as she saw the score and reveled in her victory for a short moment, the weight of her surroundings crashed onto her. She gave Owen a small Sssh... when he began clapping, as people began looking, blushing with a dartful gaze throughout the lounge. She decided that a hi-five would succumb him, and gave him a feeble-armed approach to his gesture, slant-mouthed and redfaced, her tongue clamped behind her teeth. It seemed that people were turning away. If only her stupid score would disappear from the screen; she was being displayed to the public.

Crossing her arms in mock-indignation, Nicola let out a huff, "Pretty sure it's the machine's fault." It was then that she noticed there were people who had been watching their game with mild curiosity and interest. Were they always there or did they just come? Much to her own embarrassment, she had lost to Madison, of all the students in the entire academy. A natural clutz who probably had two left feet. If it was Owen, nobody would blame her. But Madison? This defeat brought shame to her entire reputation as a demon slayer. With a quiet sigh, the words came out quick and rushed, "Anyway, congratu--" Oh, come on. It was one word. One word. Couldn't be that hard to tell someone good job for their victory right? Or at least, it wouldn't be hard if she didn't mind losing.

Madison had stomped her really hard. What a failure. A bead of sweat fell as she adjusted her hat back onto her head, and a hand came up in an almost contemplative gesture. It was like she was trying to hide the fact that she had to say it. For sportsmanship. Nothing more. Nicola cleared her throat before finishing off her phrase from before. The words had completely changed. "Not too bad. I'll play you again someday and win." Was she salty? Yes. Pretty salty. Looking around the lounge, the most she could see was more game booths and the food corner.

What time was it? Before she managed to find a clock and confirm her estimations, there was a hushed growl and Nicola could feel the heat crawling up to the top of her ears. "Have you guys eaten by any chance? Sorta forgot that I didn't grab dinner before this."

The high five he received from Madison was somewhat flimsy, but Owen took it anyway. He watched Nicola reacting to her loss, and was surprised to see that she looked slightly upset, possibly even uncomfortable. Was she really that upset about losing? He quickly brushed it off as his imagination.

"I ate, but I'm always down for more food," Owen answered with a smile. Truth was, he was almost always hungry. At home, he would find that he was much more satisfied; his mother kept the pantry well-stocked, and the meals she made were hearty. Here at the school, he was finding he was hungry much more often, despite the amount of snacks he was constantly buying at the store here in Rosebury. Going out to eat would be a relief to him.

Madison took some indulgence from Nicola's uncomfortable rambles. She wondered if this was what it was always like around herself, having your friend be awkward and bumbling. It was kind of satisfying. Madison kept a strong smile as she said, "I haven't," realizing the emptiness in her stomach. It was felt most in the rise and fall of her stomach, as she recovered silently from the workout that was Dance Dance Revolution. Yeah, she could definitely go for some food.

"Glad to know I'm not alone."

Springing off the platform, Nicola hurriedly ambled over to the concessions without another word. She wasn't sure if it was her own embarrassment or the overwhelming desire to grab some food, but she didn't try and answer that thought in her mind. The way it was set up almost reminded her of a bar, where there was a server behind the counter and shiny, spinning chairs in front. Glass formed the counter's walls, completely see through to allow the customers to glance around at the various meals or desserts that seemed to glisten and sparkle from the detail and work put into them. A plastic stand stood like a statue on the surface, filled with an assortment of junk food in all sorts of colors - Skittles, M&Ms, Pocky, all of those sweet snacks that she couldn't bother herself with most of the time.

She hopped onto one of the chairs, allowing it to swirl around, one hand holding onto her hat until she managed to get into a complete halt. Resting her chin on her knuckle, Nicola's eyes wandered to the waiter, who was currently washing glasses before he came up to them. "Alright, what would you guys like?" The answer was already in her head and the words spilled out almost too quickly that the guy almost dropped the cup he was holding. "Lemonade and a slice of combo pizza."

Owen followed behind Nicola, looking at the foods from a distance. As she took a seat, he stood in front of the counter, gazing at all of the junk food. Some of it wasn't junk food, and it made his mouth water. The menu listed everything that was available, even if it wasn't there in front of him.

Once Nicola had told the waiter what she wanted, Owen sat two stools over from her, leaving a spot for Madison in the middle of them.
"I'll have a large tray of fries and a Coke, please," he said, flashing a quick smile at the waiter. He suddenly felt incredibly hungry, and he sat impatiently, twisting the stool side to side with his hands resting on the counter.

The counter seemed to rush up quicker than Madison expected, and in a moment she was there, and in a moment the man behind the counter wanted to know what she was having, a truly ambivalent impatience on his face. She swallowed, "What do you...--and she looked up at the menu above his head, and laughed a humorless laugh"--um, just kidding, I'll have what...she's having." She perceived the man's nod as loathing, and coughed, trying hard not to focus on him. She turned to the others in an effort to divert her own attention.

The man eyed the three curiously before brushing it off, snatching their respective meals from the stands. "I'll be back with your drinks momentarily." Heading to the restricted employee's room to grab their drinks, Nicola let out a sigh, mumbling something under her breath along the lines of 'uptight' and 'stressful'. Her hands reached to the green tray, inspecting the slice of pizza cautiously as though it could be a fake or injected with poison. Cheese was melted off to the sides, sagging and gooey, the crust warm and crisp. The entire surface was covered in an assortment of vegetables, painting the creamy white surface with midnight black and verdant green. If she squinted a little with her right eye, drops of red stained the tray and edges of the pizza's skin. There was a puffy black spot on the crust, most likely from a burn, but without saying anything, the tip was drooping into her mouth, and she took a bite.

Placing it back in the tray, Nicola was savoring each bit, as though she were inspecting the flavor like a judge at an official competition. With a swallow, she cleared her throat before blatantly saying, "It's practically cardboard" just as the waiter came back with their drinks, placing them onto the counter in front of them on coasters. Her chin rested on one hand as she drew the glass of lemonade closer to her, a smirk rising on her features as he glared at her. Was her comment too off-handed? "Can't deny the fact that it could be better, 'ya know? Too soggy, too paperthin, everything's distributed unevenly too." Giving a small shrug, the waiter immediately left to tend to other customers, almost with a relieved look in his eyes.

With a blink, Nicola glanced over to her friends. "What about your meals? Anything decent out of them?"

Madison watched Nicola be blunt with the waitor, red appearing on her cheeks as she watched her friend be so upfront. When Nicola referred to her meal, her brow twitched, and she gave a low, "It's the same as yours," and retired to her meal in quiet. In truth, she wanted to go home. The darkness outside ate at her even when she was in the lounge. She knew the walk was long, and she didn't know Owen's power enough to feel easy being around him at night. "The Human Flashlight." Mother was a horror. She didn't know where she was, but she could feel her, oh God, she could feel her, her eyes in the windows who darkness reflected the inside like broad mirrors, her face plastered silver and shiny against the backdrop of black night. One of those glares, one of those minuscule shines, were not a product of an inside force. One of those had to be her mother, the eyes of an insidious being whose existence rested on the hatred of her. Her stomach ached and she no longer wanted to eat, but Madison kept at the awful pizza, and stared at herself in the window, under the realm of lively music from the machine afar.

Owen's face lit up as the tray of French fries was set in front of him. With ill-contained eagerness, not unlike a child with a gift placed before it, he reached for the ketchup, poured a big pile of it, and returned the bottle before digging in. He could already taste the crisp freshness of the thin-sliced potatoes, and, his mouth watering, he finally bit into one, prepared for the delicious flavor he had created in his mind.

Immediately, he froze, his chewing slowed in order to really take in the flavor of whatever this garbage he was eating was meant to be. It was soggy, undercooked, and the potatoes were old and somewhat crumbly. Disappointed, Owen swallowed what was in his mouth and dropped the fry he held back onto the tray.
"It's trash," he said decisively. When his drink reached him, he grabbed for it almost desperately and sucked in a large mouthful, grateful for the consistency of Coca Cola flavor. It could never disappoint him.