Grandmother and Sym stood in front of the drab professional looking building sandwiched between more drab and professional buildings. It was a very lackluster first impression of the therapist’s office. Sym heaved a breath, gripping her Grandmother’s hand tightly, she looked at Grandmother, nodding encouragingly. ‘It’ll be ok.’ She had repeated the phrase so often in the past couple days she almost believed it. She did believe it, she reminded herself. Grandmother let go of her hand and entered the door, looking back with a weary smile through the gap as the door closed behind her.
She left, hoping this time would be better, that Grandmother would get well. She took the train as close to Iseult’s neighborhood as it ran. Walking the rest of the way, through the ornate gate, she waved to the security guard as she entered. Iseult lived in the same gated community as Hiru, as pretty much anyone who had money and wasn’t afraid to use it. Though Hiru’s house was conspicuously the largest. That’s what happened when you were born with a golden spoon in your mouth. Literally, according to Iseult, who had had dinner at his house before and reported back that their silverware was in fact gold.
They would be preparing for Ira Faye’s concert tonight together, Iseult having taken Sym’s outfit home with her. Sym was not entirely looking forward to seeing that atrocity again. Though it would be nice to feel pretty, for once. No matter what her mother said about her face, she lacked the wardrobe to back it up. Iseult would have let her borrow her entire wardrobe in a heartbeat, but as she got older and more aware of the social distance between them, the more self conscious she was about asking for things of her. But tonight would be different. They were both going to wear fluffy pink dresses, just the kind that Ira Faye was notorious for, and dance until they couldn’t feel their feet. And if Iseult had her way, which she often did, they would sneak away from their VIP backstage tour and search the basement for the rumored catacombs.
Iseult squealed as Sym came out in her dress, the tight laced bodice squeezing her chest to create the illusion of cleavage. Iseult filled out hers much more fully, Sym thought, looking down at her own underwhelming chest. Maybe she’d grow into it. Maybe. One could hope. ‘Omg Sym! You look like a doll! You’re sooo pretty!’ Well. What do you know, Sym thought looking at her reflection, twisting to see her profile. She was in fact quite pretty like this. Maybe she wouldn’t return it after all. She had no idea when else she would wear it, but she could always just wear it around her house. For no reason. Just because she looked amazing in it.
Iseult’s was very similar in overall vibe, but the actual implementation of the dress was different, sleeveless with an open back and arm band sleeves that cinched at her elbows, flowing around her hands. Sym wondered what someone would think seeing two pink princesses exploring the depths of the catacombs. The idea made her grin.
Iseult liberally sprayed them with glitter that smelled strongly of candy, and then they were ready. They called one of Iseult’s family’s private cabs to drop them off. They rode in the back of the top-line hover car, giggling as they shared a fizzy pop. The drink was full of ghost yeast, which floated around your head once you drank it, giving you a pretty glittery halo, which was just a bonus to its flavor. Iseult’s family had the name brand version and it was delicious, real strawberry flavored instead of red dye number two. It was a little expensive, but this was a special occasion. Iseult had referred to it as ‘the best night of her entire life’ as they were seeing her favorite singer perform live and investigating a potentially zombie filled catacomb in the same night. She swayed to Ira Faye’s music playing over the car radio, eyes closed and a blissed out smile on her face.
Sym on the other hand was cautiously optimistic. She had never been to a large concert before, and she had certainly never been to the Grand, but Iseult’s enthusiasm for the catacombs was rubbing off on her and she was actually pretty curious if this time would turn out a success. There had been a couple false alarms through the years, but she had a good feeling about this one. Or that could just be the fizzy pop, which had a mild euphoric effect.
Her euphoria lingered until they were ushered into the venue, when the anxiety began to make an appearance given the sheer magnitude of people trying to enter the concert hall. Sym clung to Iseult’s hand, nervous about losing her in the crowd. Iseult looked at her with fond amusement. Though the tickets Iseult bought were high end, their ids updated with their security clearance for the night and their arms tagged with temporary tattoos of Ira Faye’s iconic butterfly tattoo for easier identification, the schedule prevented any mingling with the performer until after the show, meaning they were on their own until then. Timing was everything for a show of this magnitude, apparently.
They managed to find their seats, pushing through the crowd of similarly dressed and perfumed people, Sym spotting more than a few with pastel pink eyes, though doubted they had the same permanence as Iseult’s did.When Iseult liked something she put her whole self into it. It was one of her many endearing traits, despite her parents’ opinions, Sym thought loyally.
A couple was in their seats when they arrived, but moved from them quickly when they caught sight of Iseult’s targeted glare. Sym was glad for their preemptive move, she didn’t think she was up for any confrontation at the moment.
Sym’s impression of the concert was, in a word, pink. Everything was pink. Their butterfly tattoos fluorescent pink in time with the music, fluttering their inky wings. Even the music had a pink feel to it. The set was amazing, pink flowers creeping up the stage and hanging gracefully from the ceiling, Ira flying around on buzzing pink fairy wings, her signature pink gossamer dress aglimmer around her. It was an experience Sym would never forget. Not if she lived a hundred years. For one, she was pretty sure she had lost a significant amount of hearing, given Iseult’s belting out the lyrics with Ira for all her favorite songs. Her voice was just shy of on key. Another endearing trait. It made Sym happy to see her so carefree. She could feel her face muscles stretch from smiling so much. She wondered if you could strain your face from smiling. If so she definitely had.
Finally they were ushered backstage, past the aftershow passes looking hopefully up at every person’s entrance, and to the room beyond. A couple local musicians that only Iseult knew the names of milled around, making small talk and doing what looked like networking. Ew. Iseult was of course talking to them already. Sym crossed her arms. This was not her scene. From her peripheral she saw a boy walk up to her, a red cup in his hand. She prepared to reject his companionship. She was here for one thing. ‘Hey, didn’t expect you to be here.’ Sym’s head whipped to the side. ‘Hiru?! I could say the exact same thing, what are you doing here?!’ Hiru looked a bit affronted. ‘I can’t like Ira Faye?’ He quipped. Sym backtracked, ‘I mean, sure, of course you can. It’s just so, so unexpected.’ Hiru burst out laughing. ‘Actually, she’s my girlfriend’ he peaked at her from the side of his eye for her reaction. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you.’ Of course Hiru would be dating the pop sensation of their generation, according to Iseult. Sym scowled, not that she liked him or anything. He could date whomever he wanted.
Sym was annoyed. Ira was nice. Like, really, really nice. To everyone. Iseult was over the moon. She took all the pictures people asked to take with her, a sweet smile on her face, and shook everyone’s hand who offered. And here she was dressed like a knock off. All she’d ever be. She resolved to burn the dress when she got home, Iseult could get her own birthday presents, not like she lacked for them anyway. Sym caught herself. That was unkind. And if she was going to be unkind she was going to do it far away from pretty, kind, perfect Ira Faye.
‘Hey! We’re headed to an after party, you and Iseult want to come?’ Hiru asked, slideling up to her after another round of pictures with Ira. Iseult jumped at him, pink eyes shining. ‘Of course we want to come!’ ‘Izzy!’ Sym whisper-shouted. ‘We have that thing. Remember. The thing you’ve obsessed about for literally years.’ Iseult's look of bewilderment cleared in an instant. ‘Oooh. Right. That thing.’ She looked horribly conflicted. ‘Hiru,’ Sym said with a sigh, ‘you’re going to be dating Ira for a while right?’ He looked at her insulted. ‘Don’t look at me like that, you know how you are.’ He shrugged, ‘fair enough. But yeah, we just got together, should be good for at least another month.’ Sym grimaced at his cavalier attitude about relationships. Boys. ‘See,’ she said to Iseult, ‘we can still hang out with her later. We have to do the thing tonight.’ She said with emphasis. Hiru looked on, curious. ‘Alright, but you have to set us up to hang out with her later, ok?’ Iseult demanded of Hiru, staring at him intensely. A smirk creeped across his face. ‘Sure. Next time. Later Sym.’ He walked away, taking Ira’s hand in his.
Once Ira had made her exit, Iseult was back on team godseed, pulling Sym along by her arm to get her to move faster. They made it to the sub basement with only a few close calls with the staff, Iseult’s innate charm and family name coming in handy. The air was starting to get stale, the smell of moss and musty, stagnant water permeated the air. Sets for various shows were piled lackadaisy, many in states of disrepair, this was clearly end of the line storage, borderline trash. Iseult wrinkled her nose.
They used some of the leftover flower vines from Ira’s show to fashion ropes. There were a lot of flower vines, but then the set had virtually decked the entire amphitheater in flower vines. At least their rope would be easy to follow, Sym thought, eyeing the glossy pink blooms. They felt impressively real in her hand, the petals soft and plush. Two pretty pink princesses with a rope of flowers, entering the deep dark unknown in search of zombies. Sym grinned. She really really liked this plan.
