Author's Note:
My most enjoyable project as of late, this is a very talkative piece with the emphasis on new friendships and that certain chemistry. It's very dialogue driven, carefully paced, and might feel a bit like a sitcom at times. All characters are over the age of 18!
*****
1
Aaron Bench had brought a new girlfriend to the party. Yes, another one. A devilish little voice hidden in the shadows of his brother Michael's secret mind contemplated smiling, shaking her hand in such a gentlemanly fashion, before declaring, 'Hello, January, nice to meet you...'
She would have been best described as elfish, and that would have been quite enough said before swiftly moving on. There was not much else to her. If there was, though, and had Michael wanted to do her justice, he would have called added the words cute, blonde, and reserved.
Otherwise had Michael put his psychology smarts to use, he'd have added the words deceptively sweet and innocent, with an emphasis on the deceptive.
He saw how her "Plain Jane" expression slyly transformed as his brother whispered incoherently against her ear. The schoolgirl was not quite exorcised from within this very young-looking nineteen-year old. No doubt Aaron had put himself up to the task and was doing everything within his power - so basically his penis - to ruin said schoolgirl.
Her name was not January. Her name, ironically, was April - April Dodd. Had Aaron skipped forward four months or would January come along in April? These were the important questions.
House parties though...
If anything the brothers Michael and Aaron would agree on, despite their differences, this was no house party. For some reason or other, their mother Victoria wanted them there, for work's belated Christmas party.
Yes, the men had processed this, each of their own accord. The late Christmas party for the recently expanded Victoria's Hair & Beauty was taking place in early January, in Victoria's house. Thankfully only half of Vicky's employees would turn up.
The rest had social lives.
Neither Michael nor Aaron appreciated having to keep up appearances just so that their mother could pinch pennies. Of course, Aaron was outgoing to the extreme of arrogance, so that didn't bother him. He wanted to be seen and heard. Attention stealing was his bread and butter.
Michael on the other hand...
Well Michael dreaded these things. He dreaded being the centre of attention, let alone being stuck where he didn't want to be when he wasn't under the spotlight; even if he didn't have an excuse not to be there. It made him feel like a child-hostage, unable to claim his right to be a free man.
And with the calibre of party guests in attendance, a gaggle of nattering middle-aged mothers and a couple of men in-between, compensating in loudness for what they lacked in quality of conversation - and being the stepping stone and soapbox of his older brother's ego - this could have been one long night in the making.
Michael had never in his life been subject to so much hairspray and perfume all at once. Elaine, Gaynor, Pauline, Jolene, and his mother combined, were in direct violation of Geneva Convention rules against chemical warfare. Mustard gas might have been a breath of fresh air in contrast.
The men's colognes - those of Gaynor's husband Gordo, a towering carrot-haired Scot, Pauline's short-arsed and short-sighted old Jeff, and Aaron who was dressed for elbow-dancing in his Ben Sherman and Burberry - paled in comparison, and yet combined to create a sickly fug that had Michael losing a battle of windows, doors, open-close, open-close, open-close.
Where was the UN-backed rescue?
2
Out of the snowdrift came his saviour!
The party had been crammed into the medium-sized kitchen up until then, forcing Michael into his airless corner and - what a surprise - with nobody to really talk to without feeling the burn of eyes upon him, helpless to do anything other than to absently nod along to god knows what anybody was talking about.
With a collective shiver the thrumming pile of mouthy polyester, glitter and perfume received an icy blast as the house's front door opened.
Faces contorted and looked that way, beyond the kitchen door, to see who it was - rudely interrupting good times with their chilly introduction. Nobody was making the effort to go and welcome their last guest of the evening, though, not even the boys' mother.
Michael wormed his way out of the kitchen, through the swarming crowd, using the arrival of a new guest as his excuse to vacate the area.
'Hey guys, it just me,' he heard a feminine but smoky voice call out from the vestibule, accompanied by the sound of kicking boots. He was struck by the sight of such unexpected beauty when he saw her. And then their eyes met.
Under the beam of the hallway light her ebony skin somehow glowed so softly. In the long wild curls of her raven-black hair, and all over her faux fur-lined leather parka, snowflakes twinkled like diamonds.
Her dark features were soft and smouldering, almost cherubic with the round curve of her cheeks and small but full lips. Her eyes, dark and intense like a warm chocolate liqueur, warmed him as she smiled. And behind her, the door still open, the night swirled with all the fairytale nuance of a novelty snow globe.
Well, Michael was prone to romanticising the little things.
'Hi,' she chimed, though apologetically as she kicked the snow from her leather boots against the doormat.
'Hey,' Michael responded disarmingly, making his way across the hall to close the door, and then to help with her coat. 'Let me get that for you.'
'You're such a helpful virgin,' his brother remarked from the kitchen doorway, which earned the laughter of the women stood behind him, all but for April who pursed her lips preventively. Michael met him with an ungrateful glare.
'Your name is?' the woman asked. His gaze, returned to hers, was now suddenly nothing more than obligatory. He hooked her coat into a hanger and put it up with the others.
'Michael,' he smiled thinly, and it hurt him to become so short with her. Still, somehow her eyes - mellow and wise - warmed him with gratitude. 'One of Vicky's,' he chatted casually, before adding, 'the one with the manners.'
'Vanessa Thomas,' she replied amiably, holding out her hand to shake, which he did so tenderly; 'Always a pleasure to meet a good-looking young man with manners!'
He considered himself flattered and gently received her hand before inviting her into the kitchen with the rest of the guests. Soon the party relocated to the living room. Michael stayed in the kitchen a while after that, the droning conversations on family life and teenagers, no doubt influenced by the brothers' interactions, gradually and thankfully drowning out.
3
'What are you doing?' Aaron challenged with sly insinuation as he chauffeured the very, very young-looking April into the empty kitchen. Michael was stood there, his back to the kitchen sink, with a glass of white wine, silently contemplating things. He responded only with a wary expression, which April noted with masked unease.
