Chapter Text
December 27 1986. Berlint Grand Hotel. Berlint City, Ostania. 19:47 hours.
Becky Blackbell sighed as she looked into her wristwatch for the nth time that evening. The wedding party has already moved from the chapel into the hotel’s grand ballroom, and they were already having appetizers as she listened to one of Emile Elman’s graduate school buddies narrate how he and his bride have met and fell in love. As he droned on, trying to be funny and witty with his jokes, Becky swirled her champagne in the glass, growing bored and impatient.
Her fiance, Ewen Egeburg, glanced over to her and placed a hand on top of hers.
“Um, honey? Everything okay?” He asked.
Becky sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m starting to think that she lied to me about coming here.”
“Oh, well,” Ewen half-smiled, unsure of how to react to Becky’s growing disappointment, “You know how she is. She’s always had a tendency to show up at the last minute. However I do find it strange that she’s never late for work, though. Back then when we interned at City Hall, she’s always the first one to arrive, and she never missed a day.”
His brunette fiancee scoffed and reached for her purse. “She’s a real eighth wonder of the world, that’s for sure.”
Just then a creak echoed through the halls as the doors opened. It was loud enough for most of the guests to notice as they turned their heads to meet the person coming into the party.
Her heels clacked as the knee-length train of her dress swayed with each hurried step. Her eyes were laser-focused as she passed through the sea of guests, inspecting each table as she goes. Some locks of her up-do’d pink hair framed her face which flushed a healthy, rosy tint. She came in in such a captivating fashion that even Emile’s friend lost his own train of thought as he tried to continue with his speech.
Becky rolled her eyes and smirked upon seeing the two horn-like hair accessories attached on her head. Oh. My. God. She’s never getting rid of those, is she?
“Becky!” The young woman gasped, almost too loudly, and started to dash towards their table, flushed and panting once she reached her seat. “I’m so sorry I’m late! Did I miss anything?”
“How about the whole wedding ceremony?” Becky chided with a grin, to which her flustered friend responded by repeatedly whispering “Sorry!”
“Apologize to Emile and Jessica. It’s their wedding you’re late for, after all.” Ewen joined in the conversation with their old school friend.
“You better not be late for MY wedding, Anya Forger.” The sharp-eyed brunette folded her arms but purposely exposed her left hand to let her engagement ring shine in the dim light. This is the same Anya Forger who had the audacity to be late to her best friend’s engagement party last month, of all things! I mean, it’s me! I practically raised this girl since we were kids at Eden College and if it weren’t for me she’ll still be a sorry and pathetic excuse for a lady! Well, she still is but--
Anya tensed up and clasped her hands together, as if praying for forgiveness. “I will not! I will not, I swear! And I’m still so very sorry about last month! You’re my best friend and I love you like a sister please forgive me!”
This made Becky blink as Anya rambled on about their twenty-year long friendship a little bit too loud for other people to hear that it’s starting to embarrass her.
“Oh geez, just shut up!” She placed a finger on top of Anya’s lips. “This is so unbecoming for women like us. We’ll talk in a minute.” Besides, I can never stay mad at her for too long, anyway. This girl is just too hopeless it’s actually endearing.
Anya’s eyes sparkled as she clasped Becky’s hand. “Thank you Becky! You’re such a saint!”
Ewen and Becky looked at each other for a minute, confused at first, but both just sighed and tried to smile politely as guests from neighboring tables tuned into them.
The buzz quickly died down, fortunately. Within seconds the party returned to a lull as more and more important guests made their speeches and well-wishes for the newlyweds. From their table though, everyone could see that Emile’s bride was bothered, and there was a look of fear in his eyes as his in-laws grew displeased. Anya tried to avert both their gazes as she chewed on her canapes and sipped her glass of champagne. That’s all she could muster to do at the moment anyways, as everyone’s thoughts mixed and mingled inside her head like a nasty Molotov cocktail aimed at her. Did she really cause such a stir?
She swallowed a bite of her canape and she was about to reach for another when Becky pulled her out of her chair.
“Hey, help me freshen up.” She winked, then turned to Ewen to give him a little wave.
“But your makeup still looks fresh?” Anya blinked.
“Girl, it’s about to melt off my face.” Becky beamed and tightened her grip around her arm. You have a lot of tea to spill.
“Oh, sure.” Anya froze and decided that it’s better to just get dragged by her friend to the ladies’ washroom than to refuse. Besides, she could take a break from this seemingly dull but ridiculously head-chatty crowd.
Once inside the ladies’ room, Becky was quick to flip open her compact to check if her eyebrow hairs were one millimeter off and if she needed a new coat of lip gloss. Meanwhile, Anya reached for some tissues to wipe some leftover sweat from her entrance earlier.
“So,” Becky started, smacking her lips together with a tiny pop after elegantly swiping a fresh coat of lip gloss, “What’s the deal this time?”
Anya reached for another handful of tissues as sweat started to pool on her forehead. “Um, the truth is…”
“The truth is?” Becky cocked her head
Anya took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and with red cheeks, declared in a huff: “I forgot!”
The lip gloss from Becky’s hand slipped and the sound of it hitting the sink echoed in the silence.
“Eh?”
“I totally forgot!” Anya repeated, but somehow it did not make the awkward situation any better.
Becky’s eyes were wide, but they returned to their usual sharp calmness in a matter of seconds, with her being used to her pink-haired friend’s airheadedness throughout the years.
“Huh. Care to explain why?”
“I guess it’s just because I got used to not having a job for a while and that somehow made me think that I have nothing else to do for the rest of the month.”
Becky pulled out a tiny can of hairspray from her purse to fix her teased hair. Anya smoothed her dress and wondered how Becky seems to have everything in that tiny purse of hers. When her friend said nothing as she sprayed more of that synthetic, plastic-smelling stuff onto her head, Anya felt compelled to add more to her explanation.
“Besides, I guess I just wasn't as close to Emile as you guys have been since you guys went overseas to study after graduating at Eden College, so I just sort of forgot about it. Sorry.”
After expertly arranging her dark brown hair, Becky then turned to her friend and scanned her from head to toe. She slightly raised a perfectly-arched eyebrow as she analyzed her black dress.
“You didn’t even get that dress steamed and pressed.” She pointed at the fold marks near the waist, “I mean, it looks like it’s just been dug up from your mother’s closet too.”
Anya’s eyes shifted away from hers. “W-well, it was my mama’s…”
“Relax, I’m not saying it’s ugly. A black dress is always flattering, anyways.” Becky made her way in front of her and attempted to smooth out the wrinkles. “The problem is that you look like you’re being worn by that dress when it should be the other way around.”
“Well, I’m sorry for staying at five feet and two inches.” Anya pouted and blushed. Becky just giggled and decided to move onto the next topic.
“Anyway… you still lied to me, Anya.”
“Huh?” Anya looked at her friend who was trying to put some pins on her dress to make it fit better. Becky sure has everything with her. I wonder if she has peanuts...
“You said you’d bring a plus one, remember?”
“Huh? Oh! Ah! Yep. Mark and I aren’t just ‘it’,” Anya shrugged.
“After all the trouble I went through to hook you up with Mark Mendel from Ewen’s bank!” Becky tightened the cloth around Anya’s stomach to pin, which caused the girl to gasp from the sudden lack of breathing space.
“Well… Mark was nice? But he--”
“Dumped you?” Becky’s words cut like a blunt knife.
“I’m sorry…” Anya hung her head low, disheartened at the fact that her dates almost always never last for more than a month and that Becky was getting more and more disappointed at her disastrous love life.
Becky paused fixing Anya’s dress to look at her best friend in the mirror and empathized at how small she must be feeling at the moment. She sighed and gave Anya a tight squeeze around her shoulders, and Anya reciprocated by placing her hands on her arm.
“Que sera, sera, my dear,” Becky whispered then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek to reassure her. “It’s not the end of the world. Yet.”
“Yeah.”
“Besides, I bet he got intimidated by the fact that you’re Ostania’s most sought-after secretary. Every high office in the country are pratically begging at your feet right now for you to work for them.”
Anya finally smiled and giggled. She’s always liked hearing compliments.
“Well…” she said, her modesty obviously fake as she’s grinning so smugly.
Becky gave her one final squeeze and returned to fixing her dress. “Speaking of which, why the sudden decision to resign from the Office of the Ostanian Ambassador?”
“I found a better job,” Anya hummed as she started to play with her bangs, smoothing them out as much as she can.
“Oh?” Becky’s voice raised a pitch higher, along with her curiosity, “Is it from the Office of Civil Defense? Or perhaps!” She gasped, “Office of the President?”
Anya kept her sly, smug grin and winked at Becky. “Sorry, I just signed an NDA.”
“Anya!” Becky tried to conceal her excitement but she couldn’t help feel so happy and giddy for her best friend. This girl might be losing in love but she is definitely winning at life!
The girls finally emerge from the washroom, having caught up with the latest happenings in their adult lives so far. They sat down on their table and continued on with the chatter, this time along with Ewen, as they reminisce their days at Eden College and how suddenly everyone just grew up. A little while later they got a chance to meet with Emile and his bride, and Anya did nothing but to apologize profusely and promised to give them a super special belated wedding gift to make up for her non-appearance at the ceremony.
As the night hours flew by and the party started to pick up, Anya found herself standing by the cocktail bar, taking note of the guests at the party. That one couple dancing by the wedding band were respectively the current Chief of Police of Berlint City and his wife; the ones at the corner table beside the entrance were the Director of the Central Hospital, a representative from Berlint City’s Academy of Science and Medicine, and some other representatives from foreign pharmaceutical companies. Oh, there’s also the son and current CEO of Ostania’s second largest shipping company, and an heiress to one of Ostania’s largest real estate company.
How does Anya know this? Well, it’s simply because she can tune into their minds and listen. Over the years, Anya has trained herself to reduce the mental and physical strain when using her telepathic powers over a huge crowd of people. She once struggled to read the minds of over fifty people, now she could easily filter through the thoughts of at least a hundred, given they’re all in the same room as her.
Her green eyes glanced over towards the main group of four dancing under a spotlight. There’s Jessica Clarke, the bride, and daughter to Ostanian Airline’s OIC. Emile Elman, her groom, co-owner of the fastest-growing private bank in Berlint, Elman and Egeburt. The other half, of course, was Becky’s fiance Ewin, and of course, his fiancee, the heir of Blackbell Heavy Industries who still remains as Ostania’s major military contractor.
She took a sip of her drink, smiling to herself. There she was, just Anya Forger, just a girl who had to rely on her mind-reading abilities and luck to get here in this party which included only the elite, the 1%, the top of Ostania’s food chain.
While it’s true that it took her a painstaking amount of hard work and grit to be able to be dubbed as “Ostania’s Best Secretary” (oh how she hated everything about it, honestly), it was worth it for it gave her the biggest advantage in her real job.
Yes, her real job.
Anya shook her head and dismissed any more thoughts concerning work. She’s at a party, after all! She could afford to have a bit of fun tonight.
She placed down her drink and danced her way to her friends, and together they stomped and clapped the rest of the night away.