Author's Note

i do describe their appearances although if you'd like a visual of them, i have art of them here. its an alt art acc where i only upload drawings i made of them... yes i am that obsessed lol

Chapter 1

The hidden moon dimly illuminated the empty streets of (some city) as a light breeze tapped against the windows of the neighborhood’s deluxe households. A particular mansion stood out the most amidst the variety of exquisite shelters: twice as tall as the rest, and most pleasant to look at. Within the building resided the Rich family, along with numerous maids and butlers, all now fast asleep until the next day. During daylight, the owner, Mr. Rich, would be in his personal office, leaving the enormous house to the workers and servants there for whenever his daughter would come back home from school. Once back, rooms would be crowded with his friends, colleagues, and acquaintances beaming in an alcoholic trance, moving to the rhythm of the music. At night, however, it would be as silent as an abandoned town in the middle of nowhere. Everyone would be too tired to do much - perhaps read a book before bed - but most would rather doze off into a deep slumber before repeating the same the next day.

Diane T. Rich despised the evening. She had grown tired of hearing the same people roaring and laughing their hearts out, leaving the air to reek of beer, wine, and every single nasty beverage you could imagine. She didn’t have a great relationship with her dad either. Sure he gives her his credit card whenever she asks for it to buy a whole brand’s products. Sure he takes her to the corners of the Earth and makes sure she’s mesmerized by the countless cultures around the globe. Sure he'd send her to the most prestigious university in the state and would probably bribe for her graduation. Despite it all, they were never close. Frequent arguments, a lack of familial bond, thus leading to distance. Her father has money, and as long as he lived she’d be getting anything she wants. She could buy a star, she could buy a new house, she could buy friends or a boyfriend. Though none of it made her happy. Maybe momentary joy, but never content. Never except when she’s with the one person she adores.

Living a few blocks away, also under a glamorous roof, is her childhood best friend. Sylvie Spoon, a somewhat tall (taller than Diane, at least), slim, light almond skinned with silver hair, and with better brains than the former. Though in looks, Diane is obviously more attractive. However, this did not affect their friendship. They called themselves not sisters by blood, but sisters by heart. They were practically always together, be it at school or outside, and frequently at each other’s homes, too. Diane would often sneak out the house while it was occupied and flee to Sylvie’s. Of course, she was always warmly welcomed and they’d share a few words before bursting into laughter over whatever they came up with.

Alone, they were pretty sweet, incomparable at school. They were in different classes, though that didn’t keep them from staying in contact. Besides, they knew neither could nor care about teasing the trio, the Crusaders, alone. They were usually the topic of conversation, too, in looks and smarts respectfully. You could say they were pretty much the Gossip or Mean or Most Popular Girls at School. Lucky enough, they rarely got in trouble thanks to the money their fathers spend as well as their reputation. Everyone else was either too afraid of telling on them or losing the little of friendship they had with them.

In the end, Diane didn’t care about anyone else but Sylvie. She really held a place in her heart. She knew she could never let go of her, otherwise, she could succumb to despair. Sylvie knew this as well, and she wasn’t planning on ever leaving. The taller one felt just as much for Diane, knowing her technically since birth, as their parents were friends. Well, Diane’s father, that is. Nobody knows of her real mother nor her whereabouts. Though her dad had a girlfriend, or a “fiance” as he liked to call her; Diane disliked her too. In fact, she’d much rather live off with her dad alone than with this new woman that thinks so highly of herself, a lot more than Diane did. In any case, whatever made the girl happy, Sylvie would comply. Sometimes, it was as if she was her mistress and she was some sort of puppy to tug around, though that didn’t bother her one bit. She enjoyed being around Diane’s company regardless. It felt rather… delightful, too, in a way. Though delightful isn’t exactly the word to describe how she felt, using another would be considered rather suggestive. Nonetheless, they were there for each other no matter what, especially during times where one needed comfort from the other due to familial or social issues (usually coming from Diane concerning her father.)

Tonight was one of those nights. Tear stained cheeks and quivering lips hid against a slowly rising and falling chest. Embraced by her best friend’s arm, quiet sobs escaped Diane’s throat, muffled by the wet fabric she faced. Carefully listening to the taller one’s soft heartbeats and gentle words of reassurance, she tried to ease her muscles as she drove her breakdown to an end. Sylvie simply stroked her hair, lacing her fingers through purple locks, another arm around her waist, holding her protectively. She was used to doing this. It wasn’t too frequent, but she knew just what to do in case it happens. It wouldn’t take too long for her to relax, and they’d go back to having fits of giggles as they mocked the latest fashion mags, binge episodes of their favorite shows, or try out different outfits.

A few hours ago, Diane had ran away from the noise to some nearby park. She gave Sylvie a call if she wanted to come by and take a stroll there, to which she immediately agreed. Once dropped off by her driver, they walked around for an hour or so, enjoying the fresh air and smell of nature, before their legs gave in. It was getting considerably late anyway, so Sylvie offered to stay at her place. Diane nodded with an eye roll, glad she could spend a night with her friend and not face her father’s stupid lectures about her ditching curfew. The silver-haired girl chuckled as they began making their way towards her home. Even if it was nearly 11 PM, they had no fear of colliding with a suspicious or violent person. Their neighborhood, being terribly rich, was just as safe, security guards at every corner responsible for everyone’s safety. The girls often met up late at night around these places to hang out and get a drink or two. Neither ever got drunk, though they found the idea of lightly drinking appealing. Though the smell was usually repulsive for Rich, she didn’t mind it if it was to impress others or fit in a party. She wanted to appear cool around Sylvie, too, since it seemed like it didn’t bother her one bit. Perhaps she was used to it more than she was, or maybe she drank more often, though she would’ve noticed from the smell of her breath, which was always peach flavored. So that wasn’t the case. Though it did seem like Sylvie wasn’t always exactly sober from how she would sometimes behave around Diane alone. She would get rather touchy and woozy, which flustered and confused the shorter one, though she never really paid much attention to it and always waved it off.

As they approached her house, Diane inched closer to her friend, closing the space between their arms. This resulted in a curious glance from the tawny one, brow raised, though taking it as just wanting warmth against the chilly night. A few steps later though, Sylvie felt a hand crawl over her own, fingers tracing her skin and making their way up her arm’s length. A faint blush crept over her cheeks, tinting them a dim shade of crimson. She simply kept her eyes forward, avoiding eye contact, and allowed the unusually affectionate girl to press against and hold her arm as they continued walking. For some reason, her heart was racing. They were the best of friends, so it was only normal to hold hands or be this close when walking, and they often did so anyway with no bother. Yet somehow, it felt odd this time. Maybe they drank a bit more tonight and were feeling tipsy. Yeah, it’s just that. It’s not like she… No, there was no way. Sylvie shook her head at the thoughts in confused frustration. She shouldn’t have had those extra sips.

On Diane’s side, she wasn’t feeling any particular emotion. She just yearned for warmth, for closeness, for affection from someone she loved and who loved her back. Perhaps it was the liquor, but her mind took this as an opportunity. She did not let go of Sylvie the whole way back, sometimes tightly tugging at her arm, causing winces of surprise from the taller one, to which she found amusing. Her normally rosy cheeks were now flushed cherry, both from feeling tipsy and the contact between the two. She let her head fall and rest against her friend’s shoulder, as she began breathing somewhat heavily. This alerted Sylvie, immediately asking if she was okay, receiving a small nod as a response. Concerned, she insisted on calling a driver to pick them up, but Diane refused. Sylvie sighed, hoping she hadn’t caught a fever or felt sick from the drinking. They continued walking at a somewhat faster pace in order to get home quicker.

It took them a few minutes to finally reach the gates of her house. Diane did not switch positions the whole way. At one point, Sylvie thought she was half asleep and was just dragging her legs to walk, though this wasn’t the case when the girl sometimes sparked conversation. They were only mutters, though that was enough to let the silver-haired know one she was still awake. Definitely fatigued, but conscious still. Using a hand, she pat the shorter one, informing her that they were there. Diane simply nodded without looking up, which still somewhat worried the taller one, believing that Diane was in fact sick and denying it. Sylvie sighed and lifted a finger towards the bell, pressing it lightly, buzzing a moderate ringing sound. A little screen flashed on with one of her own maids peeking at the camera to check who it was. Upon confirmation, the screen turned off, and a sound signaled to open the large doors. They gradually swung to opposite sides, not fully, but just enough so that the two could enter comfortably. As their steps were traced in, the gates closed behind them automatically. Sylvie reassured that they had arrived again, just to make sure her friend was still up, earning another tired nod and a tug on her arm. Blushing slightly and nudging up her glasses with a finger, she coughed into her fist and stepped into the house after being greeted by one of the butlers. He asked if they wanted some tea and cookies, to which Sylvie agreed to, requesting some of their best herbal medicinal tea for Diane and just a cup of coffee for her. The butler nodded politely then quickly scurried off to the kitchen, letting them know to prepare it and bring it up to her room as soon as possible.

“Diane, you’re really feeling out of it tonight aren’t you?” Sylvie posed as they walked up the stairs, her violet eyes looking down at her friend with concern.

“Sure am…” The shorter mumbled with a sigh.

“Are you sick? Did you drink-”

Her questions were cut short with a shake of Diane’s head and a palm raised up. “No, it’s not it. I… I’ll tell you once we go up there. I think I’m just a little…”

Unable to continue her phrase, tears began forming at the corners of her eyes. Sylvie softly gasped, then sighed again, realizing that her friend wasn’t sick and was instead holding back a surge of emotions. It was going to be another of those nights. Quickly, she scampered towards her bedroom door and almost barged in. There, she led Diane to the queen-sized bed located at the center of the spacious room. Carefully sitting her down, then seating herself beside her, she enveloped her arms around the anxious girl and gave her a gentle squeeze. This action was all that was needed to pop the lid off her jar of emotions, spilling out as tears flooded her azure eyes, trickling down her coral flushed cheeks. She sobbed and gasped at a subdued volume, trying to keep quiet albeit failing, as she smeared her wet face and ruined mascara all over Sylvie’s chest. Sylvie hushed her and stroked her hair gently, using her other arm to rub her back as she tried her best to comfort the sorrowful mess she loved.

“It’s okay… It’ll be alright sooner or later… We only have a few years left to deal with and you can move out…” She reassured, mentally facepalming as she knew well enough that simply wasn’t the case.

Diane shook her head in frustration, “Th-That’s not it… I could move out now if I wanted to… And I do but… How would I live? I always rely on someone… I can’t do anything alone… I don’t even have a purpose other than try to keep my reputation up and mess around with those idiots!” She exclaimed, furrowing her brows in a mixture of anger and misery.

Sylvie looked away sheepishly, humming in response. “I understand. But you have me, don’t you? We could live together afterwards…” She was very unsure of what to say, mostly because of the liquor. Diane scoffed, looking away but still holding on tightly to the taller one.

“You wouldn’t be able to bear with me…”

Sylvie couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head. “You do realize we’re practically always together, right?”

Diane didn’t respond. Although she was somewhat calming down, the heavy feelings still tolled on her. As more thoughts ran through her mind, she grit her teeth as another wave hit her, more tears flowing down like a river. This surprised her friend, to which she frowned and gave her another squeeze. Diane did not wish to speak about this. It wasn’t only about her father. It was about who she was in general. She didn’t know who she was in the first place. Multiple times she’d get moments of an event similar to derealization. She wasn’t diagnosed with anything, though symptoms were prominent, and most apparent when buckets of stress from her self esteem, parents, friends, and school work drowned her in what seemed like endless melancholy. Within her, though, she was grateful for Sylvie. Who knows what could’ve happened if she hadn’t met her. It was definitely attachment. Both felt a mutual need for each other, with Diane obviously needing her more. Times like these felt condensing yet so soothing. She never wanted to leave her arms. Diane began wondering if she still considered Sylvie as a friend and only a friend. It couldn’t be more than that.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the clack of a pair of boots hit the ground after being kicked off by their owner. She tilted her head up slightly in confusion before being told to remove her own as well. Nodding, she complied, unfastening them and removing them with a bit of a struggle. Without being given the time to ask, she was pulled over to the bed and once more into her friend’s arms. Instead of sitting at the edge, they were now in a more comfortable position, laying down on the soft bed sheets, pressed up close against each other. It took Diane a few seconds to realize what was going on before blinking a few times and looking up once more at the girl holding her. Sometimes, she wondered if her own parents would ever comfort her as much as Sylvie did. She felt so small whenever she was in this state, as if she could crumble and disappear into tiny particles. However, Sylvie kept her in shape, resisting that temptation to figuratively dissolve into nothing. She focused her view on the pair of glistening pupils behind the framed glass, obstructed by the blurry tears. The other offered a gentle smile, earning a shy whine from Diane, before she snuck her face against her chest again.

Around an hour had passed as they laid in the same position the whole time, only shifting slightly when it got uncomfortable or someone needed to move a numbed arm. One of the maids had brought up the requested beverages which seemed to have worked. Sylvie, having drunk a whole cup of coffee, was now wide awake. Diane began feeling sleepy from the warm tea. She eventually calmed down, cheeks flushed, nose red and running, makeup ruined. They decided to just lay there for a bit more, Diane listening to Sylvie’s slow heartbeat under her chest, the other listening to her gentle breathing and sniffling.

After a while, Sylvie pulled back a little to check on her. Noticing her painted face, she cracked a small smile on the corner of her lips, giggling at the mess. “You look like you just went through war,” she said. Diane simply rolled her eyes at the comment, mumbling something incoherently. Sylvie hummed at her turn, then had an idea. She pushed herself up with a groan, surprising her friend in disappointment, adjusted her glasses, then turned around to face her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” She proposed, lending her a hand up. Diane followed up, now sitting on her knees.

“Um, sure I guess,” she accepted. With a nod, Sylvie pulled her off the bed in a swift motion, then led her to the bathroom. Diane nearly tripped over herself, wondering why the taller one was suddenly active. Then she remembered that Sylvie had coffee after drinking, and alcohol doesn’t mix well with caffeine. She was a little scared of what would happen next, though she couldn’t deny part of her was interested. By now, she was definitely feeling better, just like she always did after an event like this. She was about to fall asleep, too, thanks to the medicine, but it seems like sleeping will have to be postponed.