Aliyagaming Again, another beautiful cover :D
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Chapter Seventy-Seven: Fall Festival
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Zoey stepped out of the supply closet as soon as she stepped in. "This is ridiculous! Azura's still out there, doing who knows what!"

"I bet she could get away with murder." You traded places with Zoey in the supply closet, pulling out trash cans on wheels.

"And now we're stuck doing this." Zoey huffed, pulling out a pair of rubber gloves.

"Who even knew there was a party tonight?" You started pushing the trash barrels to the plaza.

"... I knew." Zoey admitted, pushing her own bin alongside you. "I thought you did, too."

"I didn't." You said moodily.

The trash can bumped over a rock, but kept rolling.

Zoey kept her mouth shut, assuming it best not to inform you about what kind of party it was.

***

The place the party was being set up at wasn't hard to find; the banners being strung up around and tables getting propped up by a whole committee of party planners and all. No one looked familiar, but to be fair, there was no way you could possibly keep up with the expansion of the island.

The sky was the color of a bad spray tan-hazing around the borders of trading posts and streaming in through the branches of pine trees. At least the weather was finally seeming to cool off; orange brittle leaves that couldn't survive the cold fluttered down onto the ground. Hay littered the plaza and scarecrows haunted you from the sidelines.

The whole party had a fall theme going on, but that was to be expected.

You imagined strolling through these grounds with Garroth by your side. Maybe you already forgave him. After the evidence you uncovered earlier, there's no use in straining yourself with the struggle of holding a grudge. Especially since it wasn't even his fault.

"Can you please tell me why I didn't know about this?"

Zoey shrugged. "Beats me. There's been flyers posted up everywhere about it. I never really said anything because I didn't have a date, and I sort of just assumed you were going with-" She rolled her hand as if it spoke for her.

"So this is a date thing, huh?" you asked glumly, straightening out a row of pumpkins.

"It won't be that torturous to watch all of the happy couples." Zoey pointed out.

You picked up another decoration. "Thanks, Zoey. Means a lot for you to be helping me through this." Your words were so lifeless they could easily be a part of the surrounding ghostly decor.

Inside of the mess hall, it was set up like a haunted mansion. Tacky fake bats had been strung from the ceiling, and the lights were dimmed, long scarlet drapery hanging around the windows. The aroma of pumpkin spice was wafting over from the candles by the punch bowl.

On the outside of the mess hall, in the plaza, the party was like a fair: mini games and concessions replacing the trading posts.

Nightfall came, and at this time, you were inside of the haunted mansion portion of the party, cowering inside a corner away from the first people to arrive.

You were proud of the decorations- don't confuse that- but what you weren't satisfied with was the janitor uniform you had been forced to wear.

All of the staff were assigned correspondent costumes to their job title and luckily you and Zoey got the cutest ones.

Trash bags. Coated in glitter. Need you say more?

This was far more humiliating than any other possible punishment.

The moment that Azura walked in draped around Garroth's arm, you knew your life was over.

She snickered in yours and Zoey's direction.

At least she got to live out her fantasy. If you were living out yours, then this was some sinisterly twisted dream.

Zoey glared back. "Laugh all you want, but you know we're still dressed better than you." she fired back.

Azura had come dressed in a skimpy emerald green getup, a silver tiara nestled into her bleach-blonde locks. She had gone the princess route for Halloween. How classic.

Azura's crimson lips curved into a smile, which shot an unsettling feeling to the pit of your stomach. "No need to be feisty," she retorted, strutting off with Garroth, who hadn't even payed any attention to you.

"Everything is all wrong." You swept up a squashed cupcake someone had dropped.

"I know, that's why we're gonna expose her." Zoey said with a fierce determination that had made up for what willpower had been sucked out of you.

For the first time, you agreed with Zoey. Before getting to say anything else though, she had to lean out to hold a trash bag open for a guest.

You craned your neck to look at the concessions table. Garroth was there, getting punch. "I'm going to talk to him."

"Wait, ____!" Zoey grabbed your sleeve and nodded her head inconspicuously towards the opposite corner, where a trainee guard was perched, eyes fixed on you. "We can't leave. If we do, he'll report it."

"Yeah, but..." You held your tongue. "You're right."

***

As the night stretched on, it felt like it had been an eternity of sitting around unoccupied, anticipating for an unfortunate mess to be made.

Every one of the pumpkin spice scented tea-light candles set out on the tables had burnt out. It was probably somebody's job to restock the supply, but if that person was you, no one said anything.

You tried your best to avert your attention away from Azura, who was having a ball.

On the other hand, like a hawk, Zoey watched the couple-of-the-night while they played ski-ball.

You tried to always be in a different section than Azura, but every time you tried to switch between the fair and the haunted mansion area, she managed to follow.

There was nothing to be said about Garroth, other than the fact that he was an unresponsive zombie who followed Azura's every command. That wasn't love.

Your limbs went into autopilot, absentmindedly sweeping up dust bunnies in the corner, while you pined over what could have been.

Zoey squeezed your arm. "Don't look," she said through gritted teeth.

This was something she repeated quite often throughout the span of the party- it meant Garroth and Azura were doing something affectionate.

You knew this because every time she'd told you, you looked in their direction without fail.

Now Azura was Eskimo-kissing him, their faces practically smashed together.

Sickening.

A woman with thick black-framed glasses and a sleek black ponytail behind them approached you. She held out a clipboard that had been clutched up against the chest of her neatly pressed pantsuit, her eyeliner-rimmed eyes scanning over it. "Garbage committee?"

"That's us," you said, dawdling with your trash bag costume.

She smacked her lips together as if spreading around chapstick. "The candles are almost gone. Could you be a doll and grab some new ones? They're behind the counter over there. Thanks!" she said without giving you the chance to even agree to the task.

"Okay. . ." you muttered to the backside of her body, which was already striding away on a set of shiny stiletto heels.

Zoey started walking with you to the counter that the woman had pointed out. "So now we met the party planner."

"She's real business-y," you noted, slicing through the packaging of an unopened box.

Zoey threw away all of the burnt out candles, but you didn't place the one you were holding in its designated spot.

Instead, you ignited the wick and walked away with it.

"____, where are you going?" she inquired cluelessly. "The decorations are right here." She wasn't seeing the bigger picture.

"I know," you said with a level tone that no one who's about to perform this insane of an act should have had.

Zoey followed along skeptically.

You pulled out a tall wooden stool and propped it up against the wall, climbing on top of it.

"What on earth are you doing?" Zoey was starting to come to all sorts of conclusions.

You peered down at her and shrugged. "I guess I've just about lost it." You balanced yourself, and when surely no one else but Zoey was paying attention, you stuck the flame directly under the sprinkler system.

Without warning, a chain reaction of fire sprinklers followed, spitting out heavy droplets of water that sunk into every article of clothing they could find. Through the barrage of pummeling raindrops, partygoers ran around like chickens with severed heads.

"Party's over," you declared, climbing off of the rickety stool.

Out of all of the soaked eyesores, your favorite one was Azura with matted, stringy hair and mascara running down her cheeks.