They pulled up in front of an open gate, and though Red was the only one to audibly gasp everyone else shared his awe at least a little. Behind the gate was a driveway so large it contained some dozen parked cars, all of them surrounding a circular fountain that even now sprouted a long stream of water that fell on a sleek platinum basin.

Impressive enough, but the house which loomed over it completely stole the view. A collage of straight rectangles and slopes, it wasn't quite a mansion, but surely a couple dozen people could've comfortably lived on its three visible floors. Window walls spanned its perimeter in long stripes, the light from inside beaming through them and pulsating along with the muted beat of music.

So it looked like the party was in full swing. There were others also just arriving, high schoolers passing by their car, through the gate, and trekking across the bricked driveway to open the large double doors that served as an entrance.

"Hell yes," Red said, making to open the car door.

Before he could, Baba reached over from her place behind the wheel and grabbed his shoulder—he'd obviously gotten shotgun. Looking back over her shoulder at Kitty and Malcolm in the backseat, the woman gestured with her head. "Go on ahead, you two. There's something I need to talk to this one about. Privately."

Bemused, Malcolm nodded and pushed the door open, climbing out. Sighing, Kitty sat for a second longer—surely enjoying the last moment of peace she'd be getting that night—before following him out and closing the door behind her with a loud snap.

Red watched them go, both clearly walking as slowly as possible through the driveway, either waiting for him or delaying for their own sakes. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned sheepishly to Baba. "Okay, yeah, I'm the one who ate all the Oreos. I know, dick move, but—"

Baba grunted, reaching into her jacket pocket for a pack of smokes. "That's not what this is about."

"Oh." Red watched her pull out a cig and light it with the heated plug on the car's dashboard. "Is it the broken mug?"

"No— Wait, that was you?" Red looked away, laughing awkwardly, and Baba shook her head. "Actually, never mind. Look, kid, I need to ask you a favor."

So he wasn't in trouble. Good. "What's up?"

Baba slipped the cig between her lips and sucked in, rolling down her window at the same time. Breathing out the smoke, she leaned her head comfortably back on her seat. "Look after Kitty. More importantly, try to make sure she has fun in there. That girl's been too strung out recently. You ask me, she needs to let loose for once."

"Uh..." Red glanced over at the girl in question, her and Malcolm still only halfway to the house's front door. "Not gonna lie, that sounds pretty impossible."

Chuckling, Baba followed his gaze. "Believe me, I know. All I ask is that you try."

"Wouldn't it be better to ask Four-Eyes? He's known her a lot longer."

"Malcolm's a good kid, but he's a bit of a bore. You, on the other hand... I get the sense you can't help but enjoy yourself no matter what you're doing." Now her eyes went to Red. "To an almost pathological degree, if I'm being honest."

"Thanks."

That wasn't supposed to be a compliment, but Baba didn't feel the need to clarify. "So? What do you think?"

Red shrugged. "I'll see what I can do. Don't hold your breath, though."

"Never have, never will." Baba took another drag, blowing it out the window. One of the party comers walked by and smelled it, wrinkling his nose and shooting her a look through the windshield, but Baba just stared shamelessly back at him until he got uncomfortable and turned away. "Get out there, kid. And please don't go too crazy. Last thing we need is one of you ending up on the news."

Red popped the door open, looking deadpan back at her. "Y'know, I'm really not that bad, Granny."

Baba waved him off, already grabbing the gear stick and setting it to drive. Red huffed as he stepped out, looking up to see that Kitty and Malcolm had already reached the entrance. He ran over, weaving between all the parked cars, taking a moment to stare one last time at the central fountain as he passed by.

Malcolm raised a brow once Red neared. "What did she wanna talk about?"

Red glanced Kitty's way. "Nothing important," he said, then pulled the door open before anyone could ask a follow-up question.

Noise exploded in their ears. Uproarious laughter and the crackle of aluminum cans and the muted stampeded of a hundred footsteps and the drone of an innumerable number of intersecting conversations and the echo of faraway hooting and the chugging chant of drinking games, all of it enshrouded by a deafeningly rhythmic bass that pounded through their skin and hummed under their feet.

People partied in the wide hall right by the door, some leaning and talking against a wall decorated with framed paintings, others listening to someone playing the grand piano that sat beside a staircase. People partied up on the second floor, visible behind a thin handrail, some of them leaning to shout at friends below and others piled on the several long couches that circled the large indoor balcony. People partied below on yet another floor under the first, most surrounding a long bar riddled with empty and half-empty glass bottles of liquor, others crowding around the giant flatscreen television hung up like a mirror on the wall, watching some bright and colorful arcade game whose every perky note was drowned out by everything else.

People danced. People shamelessly made out. People ate snacks from bowls and wide plates. People poured drinks and threw them back in one gulp. People ran up and down the stairs and across each room. People went in and out of doors, some leading into more private rooms and others leading outside to what looked like a back lawn open to the shore. People threw trash down thoughtlessly on tables or chairs or counters or right on the tiled floor. People all over, filling every square inch and every seat, filling the air with their voices and their perfumed smells and their humid heat.

Everything was lit by pulsating neon reds and purples, miniature spotlights waving through the air. And hanging from the ceiling was the bright centerpiece: a huge disco ball that rained down twinkling reflections in a frenzy of moving polka-dotted rainbow lights.

Malcolm was immediately disgusted.

Kitty was immediately exhausted.

Red was immediately thrilled.

"Now this is a fuckin' party!" he shouted, grinning and pulling the others through the door. "Come on, let's find some booze!"

The crowd was clumped together tightly enough that they had to wade through it in a single-file line. Malcolm did his best to avoid touching anyone else, but bumping into people was inevitable, and by the time they reached the bar on the floor below his arms were all slicked with the sweat of strangers.

Gross. "Why are you in the lead here?" Malcolm shouted, trying to be heard over the racket.

Red grinned over at him. "Partying's easy, Four-Eyes!" He plucked out three red solo cups from the tall pile on the bar counter, then took a bottle at random and started pouring. "You get wasted, and things go fine from there!"

"What if they don't?!"

"Then you're not wasted enough!"

By the time Red was done each drink was a brown concoction of Coca-Cola and who knew what else. He handed one to Malcolm and Kitty, and their dubious looks went first to their cups and then to each other.

Malcolm stared at Red, unimpressed. "Why should I trust anything you say when I know for a fact this is your first real party too?"

Red held his cup out. "Don't worry about it, this is how things happen in the movies. Now, cheers!"

Kitty and Malcolm shared another look, but if they were already here then they might as well give it a shot. When in Rome and all that. So they clinked their cups lightly against Red's and all three of them took a sip.

A second later, Malcolm nearly gagged, Kitty grimaced deeply, and even Red didn't look particularly happy about it. All three put their cups down on the counter, each clunking on the marble with muted finality.

"That was the worst thing I've ever swallowed," Kitty said, and Malcolm nodded in agreement.

"Alright, so there's room for improvement," Red said. "Hold on, let me try another one..."

"I don't think you're cut out to be a bartender," Malcolm muttered.

Not listening, Red glanced over the row of bottles again—he couldn't read any of their labels so he'd have to judge them based on how fancy the glass looked and the color of the liquid inside. Luckily for all of them, he was interrupted before he could start grabbing them.

"Column! You actually made it!"

The three turned to see Luke coming over, practically barreling through the crowd with a beer can held over his head. He smiled wide and put Malcolm in a headlock as soon as he got in range. "I was expecting you to bail, man!" Then he noticed the other two Rangers—specifically, he noticed the pretty girl in the green dress. "Who's this? Friends of yours?"

Malcolm pushed off from him, reaching up to re-comb his hair. "Hey. These are Red and Kitty. They're my... coworkers."

He gave that last word a certain weight, and after a moment Luke picked up on the meaning. "Oh! So they're, like..." He was staring now in blank surprise, as if Red and Kitty had both spontaneously combusted. He'd known there were others like Malcolm, but it was a different thing to actually meet them in person.

It was uncanny. They both looked normal enough, but knowing what line of business they were in put every little detail under a microscope. Red looked kind of like a clown, but Luke soon realized that the ketchup stains across his cheek were a legit face tattoo. Kitty's eyes, at first seemingly still in a bored sort of way, now appeared perturbingly observant, and Luke felt himself be examined by them like some kind of anatomical puzzle.

"Okay," Luke said. "Sweet. Name's Luke. Er... You guys looking to get a drink?"

"I guess," Malcolm said. "Something light, preferably."

"Sure. Here." Luke reached down and opened the mini-fridge nestled under the bar. He hummed, searching, then pulled out three bottles and handed them around. "Corona's as light as it gets. Hold on, let me find a bottle opener..."

Wordlessly and without much effort, all three Rangers twisted the cap off with their bare hands. Luke blinked, watching them toss the aluminum scraps on the counter and taking one simultaneous sip.

"I still don't like it," Kitty said, grimacing again.

"Ah, first time?" Luke leaned on the bar, trying to grab control of the situation. "Just like coffee, beer gets okayer over time. That's what my dad always said."

"So you torture your tastebuds into submission."

"That's... one way to put it?"

"Alright!" Red raised his bottle, took one long gulp, and let out a loud breath of satisfaction. "Now that we got fuel it's time to look for some activities! C'mon, Darkness."

He pulled the girl away, and she let him because at this point she just needed to burn time and it didn't really matter where she went to do it. Malcolm made to follow them too, but Luke held him back, and they watched the two other Rangers slip into the crowd.

Malcolm turned to his classmate, annoyed. "What is it?"

Luke kept his eyes on the crowd, right where the others had disappeared, looking wistful. "Man, why didn't you ever tell me you worked with a hottie like her?"

"... I'm not gonna dignify that with a response."

"What, she like your sister or something?"

"Please, please let's not have this conversation."

Luke laughed then, head thrown back. "Alright, you prude. Let's get down to business, then." Grabbing Malcolm's shoulder, he bent until their heads were on the same level and then pointed toward the crowd. "Look over there, Column."

Malcolm did, and his whole body became immediately numb. Rebecca Walton stood there, red hair falling around her shoulders and dressed in a white crop top skirt combo sprinkled with black five-pointed stars that would've looked tacky on anyone else. Freckles dusted across her pale face in a smooth, alluring grain, deepening her eyes amidst the flashing colors. The circle of dozen or so people she was a part of all seemed to face her direction, not an outward show of deference but more a kind of subconscious attraction, travelers around a campfire.

"Close your mouth before you start drooling," Luke said, smirking when Malcolm blushed and looked down at his beer. "So? You gonna finally shoot your shot or what?"

It took a long moment of careful consideration for Malcolm to decide. "Yes," he said, trying to sound strong. Then, after another long moment of consideration, he spoke again, though weakly. "But first, I think I'd better drink a few of these..."

You get wasted, and things go fine from there, right? They didn't call it liquid courage for nothing. At least, Malcolm hoped so.

- - - — MKII — - - -

Rebecca Walton had parents rich enough to afford this bigass house and gift her a convertible car before she was even old enough to get her license. She had plenty of friends. Her teachers liked her. Getting straight As in school was a given, and so was winning races for her swim team and competitions for her model UN club.

All very well and good. Very standard. Very by the book considering her reputation. Even this—throwing a giant party while her parents were out of town on separate work trips—seemed to Rebecca very normal and expected. What high school girl wouldn't do this if given the opportunity? Mr. and Mrs. Walton would come back next week, look around at the house their daughter had spent days cleaning up, notice a bunch of little things that told them exactly what had occurred, and probably not even be mad about it. As far as they were concerned, Rebecca was free to do whatever she wanted so long as no one died or sued and she kept her grades up for college. All this money had to get spent somehow.

And fine. Rebecca spent the money. She went on ludicrous shopping sprees, she flew down to Orlando with her friends every spring break for all the theme parks, she even threw this damn party and bought all the alcohol and would pay for all the repairs she'd then have to pretend were never needed.

But, god, how mind-bogglingly boring.

Rebecca thought about this as she half-listened to the people around her. All her friends were nice enough, but they only ever talked about some dispute with their siblings or some schoolyard gossip or some buzzing about boys. All her classes seemed important, but they were so easy even once she'd qualified for APs. And then there were her parents. The less said about them the better.

The drink in her hand—a perfectly mixed cosmopolitan—worked well enough to make her feel giddy despite herself, and the pounding of the music all around her felt acceptably stimulating. But sheer dopamine wasn't enough. If it were, Rebecca would've turned to hard drugs long ago, and while she partook as much as the average high schooler she wasn't stupid enough to really fall down that rabbit hole. Not to mention it'd be a sort of cheating, numbing herself to the world rather than actually finding something in it worth her time.

No, what Rebecca wanted—what she needed—was something truly amazing. Something beyond wealth or status or even bodily pleasure. Something that could shoot right through all those meaningless mundanities and make her life feel truly magical.

So, when some boy she'd never met started a keg stand in the middle of her downstairs living room, Rebecca noticed how he didn't bother asking anyone to hold his legs up, how he flipped over on his hands with absolutely zero difficulty, how after a full thirty seconds of chugging on the nozzle he proceeded to hold himself up by one hand and then, when that wasn't enough, one finger.

The whole room had turned to watch, and the longer he went on the louder the cheering got. By the time he stopped there were several other guys ready to pick him up and raise him over their heads in a pseudo crowd surf, and between his own laughter he seemed to make them drop him only so he could sidle up next to another stranger, a black-haired girl in a deep green dress. The boy—was that a tattoo on his cheek?—nudged the girl, waving over at the keg, eliciting only a blank stare and a shaking head.

Interesting.

Rebecca walked away from her friends, sparing them an apologetic glance so they didn't feel too bad about her blatantly abandoning their conversation. When she reached her target, the boy—Red, obviously—was already in the middle of his own conference.

"What, don't tell me you couldn't do the same thing," the boy was saying.

"It's not that I can't," the girl told him. She held up her bottle and wrinkled her nose. "It's that I already have a bad enough time finishing this. Why would I want to gulp it down from a barrel?"

Time to interrupt. "Hi!" Rebecca said, shouting over the music to get their attention.

Red glanced at her. His eyes went straight to her face, then down, and Rebecca figured she knew what he must be looking at until he looked back up with a grin.

"Hey, you're like a walking constellation!" he said. Then, more thoughtfully, "Or maybe like a really messed up zebra."

Yes, very interesting.

"My name's Rebecca!" she said. "Yours?"

"Red! And this is Dar— er, Kitty." He gestured at the girl, who merely stared back at her wordlessly without even bothering to so much as smile in greeting. "She's the silent type."

Well, not like she'd come over to meet Kitty anyway. "I don't think I've ever seen you before. Are you in Quint Prep too?"

"Oh, no, we don't go to school." Not we don't go to that school, just we don't go to school period. He said it casually, like that wasn't literally illegal. "We're friends with Four-Ey— I mean, Malcolm. Y'know, that guy over there with the glasses."

Red pointed, and Rebecca followed his gaze to find Malcolm and Luke by the bar across the large room. They didn't notice the eyes on them, too busy pounding beers, one with a sort of grim determination and the other chuckling along the whole time.

Luke she recognized easily—hard not to, considering he'd been the one to bring half the booze—but Malcolm took her a bit longer. She vaguely remembered his narrow face and slicked black hair, his earnest severity, his hunched shoulders and solitary air. The guy had always seemed like he never had much going on, but if he knew someone like Red then clearly that wasn't entirely true.

"So," Red said, though now he was facing Kitty. Rebecca tried not to feel annoyed at how simply he'd turned away from her. "No keg stand?"

Kitty shook her head. "Never."

"And no dancing."

"Never ever."

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"And no shots."

"I'd literally rather die."

"Okay." Red rubbed his chin, looking out at the rest of the party. "Y'know, you're really not making this easy for me..."

"I take it parties aren't your usual scene," Rebecca said, and now she did talk directly to Kitty because apparently the other girl had to be part of this after all.

Kitty glanced at her again, and Rebecca had to stop herself from flinching at the sharpness in her eyes. "So far it seems mostly a way to act as stupid as possible without any social repercussions."

"Exactly," Red said. "It's awesome."

"I'm not surprised you'd think so."

Red ignored the insult. "What we need is something competitive. That's the kind of thing you're actually into."

Kitty frowned at the surety of his voice. Since when did he know anything about her?

At least Rebecca now saw a good way to get in Red's good graces. "I have a good idea," she said, and when Kitty's frown deepened she smiled slyly. "Don't worry, I'll get you something a lot more tasty to get through it."

- - - — MKII — - - -

Over at the bar, Luke whistled when he saw Red do the one-finger keg stand at the other end of the room. He nudged Malcolm, pointing the boy to the spectacle just as everyone gave one last cheer. "Could you do that?"

"... Not as easily."

Luke smirked at the groggy displeasure in Malcolm's tone. A few more beers in and the dude was already completely trashed, heavy-eyed behind his glasses and slumping low over the bar counter. Still, he sipped freely from his bottle, at this point more out of habit than any real need or desire.

Seeing him like this was a little funny, and a little sad, and even a little encouraging. Malcolm was always so in control and uptight, but now he seemed a little more human. Maybe he really wasn't a lost cause.

"Hey, not too late to show him up," Luke said. "Bet a couple fireballs in the air would be a way better party trick."

Malcolm scoffed. "No way."

Luke shook his head, straightening to finish off his can and letting out a sigh. Never mind, Malcolm was very much lost. "I don't get you, Column. Why would you ever wanna be normal when you can do literal magic?" Seeing that both of them were empty, he bent down to get them another pair of beers. "If it was me, I probably wouldn't even be at school. Like, what's the point?"

"To get a good job."

"Who needs a normal job when you can fight monsters for a living?" Luke leaned close, handing over a new bottle for Malcolm. "Seriously, be honest with me, man. Where's your head at?"

Frowning, Malcolm flicked the bottle open with a hiss of bubbling foam. He took a long gulp, and for a second Luke figured he would just ignore the question, but then he set the bottle back down and, staring dead ahead, spoke.

"My parents were both... well, like me," he said. Each word came hesitantly, and it was hard to tell if that was due to the intoxication or the unexpected vulnerability or both. "They were pretty good at it, too. But it's dangerous, and eventually my mom... she died on the field."

Luke sobered at that, shoulders hunching. When Malcolm glanced over, as if realizing what he'd said and about to regret it, the taller boy nodded, surprised they'd gotten here but willing to listen.

Malcolm continued, though he had to look away again before he did. "We never even found out how. Just one day someone in a suit shows up and tells us she's never coming back. Then, my dad... just abandoned us." His grip on the bottle tightened, as did his jaw. "He got so deep into that world, asshole just stopped caring about anyone but himself. Bastard."

Shaking his head, he took another sip, swallowing the bitter fluid. "I don't wanna end up like that. When I have kids, I want... I need to make their lives stable. I need to be normal for them. No constant risk of death, and no... no risk that I'll stop caring about them the way my dad stopped caring about us."

Luke hummed. Well, hard to keep making fun of the guy now, at least about his powers. He still couldn't really get behind the way Malcolm went about things, but then again it wasn't his life. Still, that did bring up another question. "So... why even be a monster hunter anyway, then? I mean, if not getting sucked into the magic stuff is that important to you, why get involved?"

"I started learning when my mom was still alive. Really, I just wanted to spend time with her. But now?" Malcolm's face grew dark, eyes shaded so deeply by the pulsating lights that they fell into a sort of intermittent abyss. "One day I'll run into my dad again. And when that happens..."

His grip tightened again, and now the bottle cracked in a sudden clap of splitting glass. Beer flowed through the fissures in a soft ooze, but Malcolm ignored it even as it spilled down his hands.

A smidge of fear crept on Luke's chest, and for the first time he became aware of how easily Malcolm's powers could be used on people rather than monsters. "Damn. That's... heavy."

"Yeah." Now Malcolm looked down and scowled at his spilling drink. His solution was to just throw his head back and chug the whole thing before it could pool up on the counter, something Luke might've remarked on if he didn't still look dead serious.

When the bottle was empty, Malcolm sighed and tossed the now crumbling remains into a nearby trashcan. "Red's lucky," he muttered, his anger thankfully quenched. "As far as I can see, he doesn't have a past. No family, no baggage, nothing to hold him down. Total free agent. I'm expecting him to just get bored and leave one of these days. Honestly, I'm kinda surprised he hasn't already."

Turning around, Luke found Red and Kitty talking by the wall across a sea of partygoers. "What about... uh, Kitty? What's her deal?"

"I'm not sure. She doesn't like talking about her past. The only one who knows anything is my brother Jay, and that's just because she's got a huge crush on him." He paused, thinking. "Or maybe she has a crush on him because he knows. I'm not sure."

"Your brother, huh..."

"Yup." Malcolm glanced over and saw Luke's eyes locked on Kitty across the room. Groaning, he palmed his face. "Oh, don't tell me."

"... Y'know I can get behind that goth aesthetic."

Malcolm shook, and Luke thought he'd crossed some line until the other boy started laughing. Long, bellowing, close-eyed laughter, and Luke figured the booze must really be getting to him because there was even something like joy in the sound.

Smiling, Luke grabbed Malcolm's shoulder, shaking the laughing boy. "Column, you maniac, I think you're finally ready." From the corner of his eye he saw Rebecca climbing up the stairs, Red and Kitty on her heels. "Time to join the party!"

- - - — MKII — - - -

Beer pong.

Kitty didn't like the sound of that, and even less when Red insisted that they be on the same team, but then Rebecca told her to trade in each lost cup with a jello shot and after a few of those things seemed to get a lot better. She played with Red at her side, taking turns against Rebecca and some other girl Kitty never bothered learning the name of, her aim true despite the way that the floor seemed to slowly sway more the longer they went.

It was pleasing enough to find out that something alcoholic could also taste even remotely good, and it was even pleasing to get the ball in the last cup across the table. Rebecca's team groaned while Red whooped at their shared victory, and Kitty found herself actually fine with the idea of playing again.

Red apparently felt the same way, looking around at the crowd that circled their table. "We're the defending champs now!" he shouted, voice slurring. He'd offered to drink her lost cups for her, and by now he was clearly reaching the limits of his tolerance. "Who's next?"

"We are!"

Luke came wading through the crowd, dragging Malcolm behind him. Plenty of folks recognized them—or rather, plenty recognized Luke—so there were some whoas and even some scattered applause as they made their way around to the other end of the table. Luke waved ironically while Malcolm looked on with a sort of bemused discomfort, not used to so much attention.

Red smirked, taking the big pile of plastic cups stacked on the table's center and beginning to set up his side while Luke did the same on his. "You sure you want a piece of this, Four Eyes?"

Malcolm glanced at Rebecca, who'd smiled at the proceedings and started wordlessly pouring more beer into the empty cups. When he looked back at Red, it was with eyes nearly glowing like a pair of embers. "I will destroy you."

That got Red to laugh, and he was in such a good mood that he didn't even mind when Malcolm immediately made good on his promise, tossing a ball up and sinking it gracefully on the first turn. Luke tried the same, missing by a hair, and during their turn Kitty and Red did about as well.

Things went on like that, points traded back and forth, cups chugged in seconds and stacked empty along the edges of the table, a few trick bounces, a few close calls, plenty of cheering and drinking from the sidelines. Luke posed and flexed whenever he made one, eliciting a chuckle or two. Red shouted exuberantly with his points, and Rebecca joined him in that, sharing in his joy, both of them well and truly drunk halfway through the game. The sight of it made Malcolm growl and double down on his focus, head bent like a charging bull each time he tossed.

And then, amidst the pounding music and hurrahing and stomping of feet, Kitty sunk a ball and, through some combination of drink and thoughtlessness, her perpetually horizontal lips curved up into a small, satisfied smile. Someone nudged her, almost pushing her off her feet, and turning she saw Red grinning back. Kitty forced her face back into stone-faced aloofness, but to her chagrin she could tell by the twinkle in the boy's eye that he'd caught her brief moment of delight.

"Hell yeah!" Red said, grabbing her shoulder. He pointed up at the ceiling, waving his single finger in the air. "Let's go, Darkness! One more! One more!"

There was, in fact, only one cup left on Malcolm's side. He glared down at it, as if trying to burn it to cinders with just a look, and while the cheer from the last shot subsided Luke bent down and whispered something to him.

Kitty couldn't hear from across the table, though she did notice Malcolm's flicker up to Rebecca before settling on the remaining two cups on her and Red's side. She pondered that look even as Malcolm took his shot, sunk it to a roaring cheer, then moved aside for Luke to do the exact same thing.

Red chugged their last cup of beer while Kitty took a jello shot from her dwindling tray and sucked it out like an oyster. It went down sweetly, and not for the first time Kitty had to wonder how much sugar Rebecca had poured into them.

Their side now empty, the two had one more try at redemption. Red seemed to sober at that, aiming carefully with one eye, but when he threw the ball it skipped right off the lid with a sharp plastic click. He groaned, joined in this by Rebecca and most of the crowd, then turned a pleading look to Kitty.

"Last chance," he said, smile now rueful. "Hit 'em with the comeback!"

Taking a ball, Kitty took aim. Luke and Malcolm looked on nervously—they'd seen her make nearly all her shots, and really the hardest part of this game for her was the discomfort that came from handling a plastic ball slick with alcohol and yeast. She was sure she could make it, looked forward to making it, but then Kitty saw Malcolm's eyes glance over at Rebecca again and something about it felt familiar, almost like—

Ah...

Huffing through her nose, Kitty tossed the ball. She didn't bother to look on as it arched across the table, whistling through the air, and missed the cup by a good five inches.

Roars. The whole crowd exploded with them, clapping with drunk excitement, reaching out to high-five a Luke that had already begun shaking Malcolm around like a rattle. Even Red joined in, so thrilled about just being part of the moment that he didn't even care if he was on the losing end of it.

The only one not celebrating was Malcolm himself. The boy looked across at Kitty, shocked, and in response she just raised a brow and pointed at Rebecca with her eyes. His face lit up—for a second Kitty thought he might even be using his powers—but eventually he gave her a single sharp nod.

Well, good luck to him there; she had some experience with being in his position, and if it felt as hopeless for him as it did for her then he'd need all the help he could get. Done with the game, Kitty turned around and started making her way out through the crowd, heading for the sliding glass door that led out to the backyard.

The evening air smelled fresh, grassy lawn mingling with the sea breeze of the nearby waterfront. Kitty breathed it in as she stepped outside for the first time in what felt like hours, and it was startling how used she had gotten to the stink of liquor and damp bodies. There were some other partygoers out here too, most sitting around the oval pool, but their soft talk joined with the crickets and unseen waves to form a front of calm against the uproar inside.

And then Red had to ruin it by following her outside. "Hey, wait up!"

Kitty kept walking, though she did turn her head a bit at the sound of his voice. "What do you want now?"

"You totally threw that last game, huh?" he asked. His smile was knowing, which only served to further irritate her. "That last shot, I mean. C'mon, you could’ve gotten that if you wanted to."

"Well, too late now."

"I guess."

They walked on together, heading towards the small dock. This place really was ridiculous—flanked by two great stone walls, the yard was big enough to rival the driveway out front, and that was without even counting the tiled section that contained the pool or the toolshed across from the house. It was so big that the throbbing light from the various windows couldn't hope to cast away the heavy shadows that fell on it, and neither could the lights surrounding the pool. Even the sky was no help—this close to the city, what stars could be seen shone dully, and the crescent moon hung as a curved line thin enough to hide unless sought out.

Dark, but Kitty welcomed it, stepping comfortably into the shadows and letting them fill her, seeking silence. But Red's feet crunched softly on the grass, breaking all her attempts.

"Alright," Red said, looking around with his hands behind his head. "Let's find something else to do."

Kitty stopped, and Red nearly bumped into her. When she turned around to face him, the steel of her gray eyes shone sharp, reflecting the little light there was.

"Would you please leave me alone now?" she said.

Red blinked. "What? Why?"

"I'm tired. And you've been bugging me all night. Don't you have anyone else to spend time with?"

Again, Red could only blink. Kitty had never seen him as taken aback. The sheer surprise on his face annoyed her as much as anything else he'd ever done; it was so... so presumptive.

"I thought we were having fun?" he said.

Shaking her head, Kitty turned and walked again, shoes clapping on the dock's wooden platform. "God, you're so desperate."

"Oh!" He sounded relieved now, and the dock creaked as he followed her on it. "Uh, maybe you got the wrong idea. I'm not trying to make a move on you or anything—"

"I didn't mean it like that, you idiot!" Kitty hissed, and damn her, she felt her face heat up just like Malcolm's. She wobbled, feeling the vibration of each wave as it struck against the supports below, and her head felt so light. "I mean you're so desperate to have everything you want the moment you want it! What is with you?"

"I'm... just trying to make the best of tonight," Red said, stammering. "Y'know, it won't last, so..."

"Maybe your best isn't mine! Try to consider other people's feelings for once!"

Red frowned. "Hey, I'm considerate!"

"Yeah right." At this point she really was a runaway train, and now words just began stumbling out, two weeks' worth of silent judgements. "All you care about is what you wanna do at any given time. Who cares if it sucks for anyone else, right?"

Hands uncurling, Red put them in his pockets, voice hardening. "I can't stop being myself just cuz it might make other people uncomfortable."

"It's not about uncomfortable."

"Then what is it about?"

Something tight bubbled up her chest, and Kitty turned fully to him now, arms crossed. "What about last week, when you decided to sneak off with Mal and Clover?"

"So what? Things worked out. We saved the whole friggin' world, in case you didn't hear."

"Don't pretend like you care about that. We both know you just got lucky it turned out that way." She walked closer, glaring up at him in a haze of woozy anger. "You had no idea what you were getting into. For all you knew, going in there like that could've gotten them into even more trouble! It was dangerous!"

Red's glare now matched hers. "If I remember right, you're the one who helped me sneak in with that dumb ring!"

"Because you were already going anyway! That was me salvaging your stupid choices!"

She was shouting. They both were. It didn't feel good—it even kind of embarrassed her to think that anyone might hear it—but she couldn't stop herself. Things just came out, and she was so suddenly irritated by everything Red did. With as dizzy as it had made her it would've been so easy to just blame the alcohol, but there was also something about this moment that felt like an uncorking, a popping open of a thoroughly shaken soda can.

"You said it yourself," Kitty said. "It didn't matter to you whether things went wrong as long as you got your fun. " Then something else popped into her head, something that almost felt cruel, but at this point it was too late for restraint so she spilled it out regardless. "And what about Stretch?"

Red's mounting anger now chilled all at once, quenched by sheer confusion. "Huh? What about him?"

"You’re still living with him, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

And he called himself considerate?! "So, have you been looking to move out? You know, any time soon?"

Back to the brainless blinking. Kitty scoffed at it, turning, losing her balance, and having to prop herself up on the dock's handrails because now her head really was rolling,

"Stretch is putting you up because he's a good guy and you needed help, but how long do you expect him to do that?" She scowled at him, staring him dead in the eyes, and still he just looked completely lost, like she was talking some alien language. "Have you even thought about getting your own place, or are you just gonna keep mooching off him?

"I've…" Red swallowed, and for the first time looked away, staring at the dark waters. "I've been meaning to think about it..."

"You haven't for even a second, have you?"

It wasn't entirely fair. Kitty knew that, but clearly the thought of it had stabbed into some miraculously vulnerable chink in Red's confidence, and now she just wanted to pounce.

"You don't care about tomorrow," she said, "and I'm sure that makes things exciting for you, but you can only do that because there's always someone else pulling the weight you pretend doesn't exist. Truth is, you're not some radical daredevil. You're just a deadbeat who only cares about himself, and you're lucky enough to have friends who'll put up with it! But if they're really your friends they shouldn't have to. You—" Something hitched in her voice, and the shock of it almost paralyzed her, but she gulped it down and kept going in a whisper. "You don't deserve them..."

"I'm not—" Red shook his head, breathing sharply, and Kitty could see the anger return in him. Good. "That's not what's going on at all! If anything, you're the one everyone puts up with!" His voice went falsetto. "Oh, wonder if Kitty's coming out of her room today, oh, anyone heard from Kitty, I'm getting worried, hope she goes to this party so she has some fun for once in her life!" Red jabbed a finger at her, stabbing in her direction with every word. "I mean, talk about sucking the life out of everything! Is your little mystery girl act really that important to you?!"

"You don't know me."

"You don't know me!"

They stood there glaring, both flushed from drink and anger, hearing now only the soft push of the calm shore and their own heavy breathing. Then, feeling suddenly awkward at their closeness, Red pulled back.

"Look," he said, "I don't know what your problem is, but message received, alright? I'm gonna go hang out with someone who isn't a pain in the butt."

"Oh, thank you," Kitty said, watching him turn around and walk back toward the house. "You are so gracious."

Red flipped her the bird without looking back, and that pretty much said everything they both thought of each other at that moment. But, watching him go, Kitty didn't feel any better. She was cleaned out, whatever demon had possessed her having bled away, leaving her empty and alone in the night. For once, that didn't feel like much of a comfort.

"Gee, Kitty, what a show."

Kitty flinched, turning to see another girl walking over to the dock from her blind spot. She hadn't heard anyone come, and even now the girl crossed the lawn almost soundlessly, each step consumed by distant party noise. Then, she saw the girl's face and realized it wasn't a girl but a grown woman, one with neon red hair that fell straight down to her shoulders, a thin nose, and equally thin lips curved into an impish grin.

"You've changed," the woman said, eyes dancing in the dark. "Never thought you'd be the kind to get into a screaming match."

"Fox? You..." Kitty felt the dock moving again, but this time it wasn't the rhythmic slap of waves underfoot. She reached out for the handrails again, leaning hard on the wood. "Where..."

Grin falling, Scarlet strode over until she was close enough to grab Kitty by the elbow. She propped the girl up, trying to get her to stand on wobbly feet, and leaned close to examine her face. Scarlet saw the redness of her eyes against what little light there was, felt the clamminess of her skin, and most of all got a whiff of her breath.

"You're drunk," Scarlet said, exasperated. "No, you are absolutely smashed right now. Okay, you really have changed, Kitty. I mean, damn. I was hoping to have a serious conversation."

"What... are you doing here?" Kitty said, still not quite believing her eyes. "I've been looking..."

"Oh, I know you have. Looked into who kept hacking into my bank account, and imagine my surprise to find you alive and well." Scarlet sighed, now grumbling. "Then I follow you to this stupid party, but it's been impossible to get you alone 'till now."

Kitty looked up at her, and whatever was left of Scarlet's devil-may-care pretensions melted away at the sheer weight of the sincerity on the girl's face.

"There's so m-much I need to ask," Kitty said, gripping the woman's arm. "I mean, why... how.."

"Shh. Not here. And not when you're... like this." Scarlet saw Kitty cringe at that, eliciting a wry smile. "Come on, let's get you sobered up. Believe me, you'll want to be for this."

They went back to the house, and as they walked Kitty felt more than saw Scarlet morphing down, appearance changing to that girl she thought she'd seen at first, one around her own age, much plainer and easy to overlook. No one paid them any mind, just two teenage girls, one drunk and the other helping a friend.

Once they got inside, back to the unrelenting sound and fury of the party, Kitty glanced over to see Malcolm sitting hunched over on one of the couches, one hand holding his folded glasses and the other holding a nearly empty bottle of water, looking like he'd been run over by a whole stampede. Luke was doing somewhat better, sitting nearby and talking to some friends, though he kept looking over at his superpowered classmate in obvious concern.

Then, passing into the kitchen, Kitty looked over and saw Red there, standing on the grand piano by the front door, tie wrapped like a headband over his temples, holding up a cup of something she knew was probably disgusting. A whole crowd surrounded him, holding up their own drinks, Rebecca among them, everyone lit up by the bright rainbow colors of the big disco ball that hung like a glass sun from the ceiling high above. Grinning widely up at that ceiling, Red shouted a cry echoed by nearly everyone else around him, one that rang loud all across the house and far above the music.

"Fuck tomorrow!"

"Fuck tomorrow!"