Nb: I made minor changes to some sentence structures, so if you've been updated, there's really no need to re-read this chapter. The content is completely the same.

It was the lights. They hung low, tethered to the arched ceiling by strings of glass pearls. Tiny spheres were set into the marble floors. To her right. To her left. A golden hue washed over everyone and everything in sight. If she stared directly into the overhead beams the entire ballroom blurred out of her vision, and that, Buttercup decided, was truly magical.

"Badass chandeliers," she said, pointing upwards.

Bubbles wore a white lace masquerade mask with feathers flaring out to the side. She was still absorbing the ballroom and her head swivelled around, never settling for too long on any one item, like a bobble head on a car's dashboard. She was dressed in an ivory strapless gown. "The outfits. Everyone looks so beautiful! Did you see the sun-top bodice on that red dress? And that man is pairing navy with forest green…"

Buttercup nodded along to Bubble's chatter. They were seated on stools off to the far right of the open bar. She doubted she could stomach any of the drinks they were offering, even if it were legal. She looked over at Bubbles' glass; it was filled with ice cold water.

A server swept past and Buttercup swiped a glass off his tray; she frowned at the deep red liquid. He'd moved so fast that she nearly fell from her seat while trying to reach for a drink. Just five minutes ago, Bubbles had made the motion look effortless.

The glass mirrored back an image of a beaded dark updo with a simple, almost flimsy, black mask. She adjusted the scrap of silk warily. Apparently it complimented the emerald green of her gown, but Buttercup had fought for the dress. It was cute, comfortable, and free below the waist. She could move. So when the time came to choose masks, Bubbles didn't seem to have much life left in her. It honestly felt like she'd picked out the first thing on the clearance rack.

She placed her glass down and did a quick sweep for her server. He'd ended up lost somewhere in the sea of hair and accessories that was Townsville's finest. Buttercup recognised the curls of , the pot-belly of Townsville's prison warden, and Pauline Suzuki's specious smile. So much for mask-based anonymity.

Instead of wading through that mess of polite conversation and pleasantries, Buttercup focused on flagging down another server.

Her phone buzzed. It was Mitch: You pushed Bubbles off a roof?

Based on the lack of question marks, he was curious, not upset. But just in case, she had to cover her tracks. There was always the possibility that love-struck Mitch would run to the Professor. Where's your proof? I deny everything.

I have a key witness.

Buttercup grinned. If he was playing along, there was no way he'd be selling her out.

So what was chasing you? He texted a second later.

Can't you just believe that I shoved her for the fun of it?

Maybe a few months ago, he replied. These days it's up for debate.

Buttercup paused. Would she have done that to Bubbles just a few months ago? Maybe. The blue puff had always been so…easy. Or maybe Buttercup just had a cruel sense of humour.

"Do you find it funny when people fall over?" She asked, cutting through Bubbles' chatter.

"…No," she replied slowly. "I was talking about long inseams. I don't really understand how we changed topics?"

"Mitch texted," she muttered, stuffing the phone back into her clutch bag. "Okay. So what about when people accidently walk into glass windows?"

She blinked.

Huh. Maybe Bubbles was the wrong person to ask. She basically embodied everything warm and fuzzy in the world; it wasn't like she could be a fair judge anyway.

"So, uh, what do you think about…about…" Bubbles tucked a blonde strand behind her ear, searching for a new topic. The left side of her hair had begun to frizz, and each push threatened to dislodge the pins that were holding her curls in place.

Was it a nervous gesture? Didn't she usually thrive in social situations? "Are you nervous? I thought you loved this kind of stuff."

The blue puff grabbed her glass with both hands and simply shrugged.

The way Bubbles was gripping it, you'd think it was warm and comforting like a cup of herbal tea. She refused to face Buttercup now, and the green puff began to wonder if she was actually the reason for Bubble's nervous never-ending monologue.

Sheesh. Bubbles was trying way too hard…

As a peace offering, Buttercup pushed her clutch bag further away. No more distractions. "This whole thing doesn't suck as much as I thought it would. Princess hasn't shown her face yet, and neither has Sedusa. We might actually get a decent night. " She had to admit that Bubble's presence made the whole thing a bit more bearable. The least she could do was try. "So, tell me again about the… you know, sunny bodice thing. What's so cool about it?"

Bubbles smiled and began to speak.

Buttercup was tired. Maybe it was the silk vs satin debate (where Bubble's had argued both sides), or the dimming overhead lights that signalled a closing bar, but Buttercup wanted to head to bed.

Finally, the blue puff paused to have a sip of water.

A second later she clutched Buttercup's wrist with a high pitch squeal. "Look! Look! Over there! The red sun-top bodice. Isn't it amazing?"

Buttercup craned her neck to see beyond the huddle of people. She couldn't understand Bubble's obsession with the red dress. Yeah it was striking and dangerously revealing, but still… just a dress.

The woman wore a black feathered mask. Her dark hair spilled over her chest and hung down to her waist. Her back was exposed with a large diamond cut-out that began at her shoulder blades and ended at the small of her back.

She was in the center of the huddle and one by one she hugged each person. Maybe they were all part of the same company. Out of pure boredom, Buttercup counted the seconds for each hug. Three Mississippi's; anything longer than one should be classified as harassment. Buttercup couldn't imagine allowing strangers to press up against her.

Each person who was hugged, smiled, nodded, and left the huddle to go about their business. Buttercup snorted. The only reason those people were cool with all that bodily contact, was because the hugger was hot. She'd bet money.

"She's definitely something," Buttercup commented. When she glanced back Bubbles was a full meter away. "Bathroom break," she said with a sheepish smile.

Buttercup nodded as the blonde turned down a hallway.

The white noise of conversations came into focus and Buttercup looked around the brimming ballroom. It seemed like everyone had arrived. Chances were that Butch had made it too- she'd left the house with Bubbles way before he'd even changed outfits.

Buttercup felt drawn towards the far left of the ballroom. There was a stage that she hadn't paid much attention to when she'd first arrived. It was empty apart from a few musicians fiddling with their instruments.

She watched for a few more seconds and then made her way over to them. They continued tuning. All that laser focus and they still weren't ready to play some music? The only thing Buttercup had heard for an entire hour was the sound of Bubble's voice; these guys sucked at their one job.

"This way."

Princess swept past, dragging Butch by his wrist. She paused at the steps leading up to the stage.

"One sec." Butch moved to stand directly in front of the green puff. "I guess a mask can only hide so much. You clean up well, Ballerina."

"…Thanks."

The counterpart connection had led her to Butch. Why? Because for one measly second she'd wanted to find him?

Butch wore a crisp black suit with a white collared shirt. His dark mask was simple, and his hair was stylishly mussed. He was, she guessed, to the basic majority … handsome.

Princess clung onto Butch's arm. They must have already spoken; she seemed convinced that Butch was her 'saviour'.

Princess was the only person in the entire ballroom who wasn't wearing a mask. It stood out. Just like her dress. It was a long sleeved golden gown that puffed out like an old prom dress. It was blanketed with pink lace patterns and accessories.

"Oh, if it isn't…" Princess looked her up and down, "who are you? Remove your mask." She ordered with a flick of her wrist.

Were all red-heads bossy? Was it coded into their DNA? "I suddenly feel like being anonymous," she replied, "if you hate it so much, then maybe don't make disguises a dress-code requirement." Buttercup and Princess hadn't spoken since they were kids, but those years together had left her with a bitter taste.

"'Anonymous' better mean 'invited'." Princess reached forward and snatched Buttercup's mask off, snagging a few strands of hair in the process. She raised an eyebrow. "Buttercup Utonium, right? I should have known. No one else in this town would have the level of sheer stupidity needed to insult a Morbucks' host."

Right. She'd almost forgotten that Princess was spoilt, and the longer you stayed in her the presence, the harder it was to wash off the rot.

Princess looked around. "Don't tell me you're the only Puff to attend? Ugh, figures I'd be stuck with you. Where are your sisters? Where's –?"

"Blossom?" She had claws too. "Careful not to spiral. Weren't you shipped off to that 'boarding school' in Citiesville, so they could deal with your special brand of crazy? I don't think looking for the pink puff is in your best interest."

Blossom refused to go near the heiress till this day. After the incident, she'd returned home injured and on edge.

On the same night that Townsville Bulletin had aired an exclusive clip of Princess' obvious psych-ward 'get away', Blossom had stopped wearing her signature hair bows. In the four second news clip where Princess had been dragged into her limo, there'd been a flash of pink, a straight red ponytail, and a familiar red satin bow. If Buttercup squinted, she could swear she was seeing double.

Princess smiled. All teeth. "Every young person is… impressionable. But I'm a lot more comfortable with my identity now. Why wouldn't I be? Everyone wants to be a Morbucks after all."

"Right, right." Buttercup noticed the splashes of pink on her outfit. Maybe it didn't mean anything, but it definitely wasn't her style before her pink puff obsession. "I'll let Bloss know. It's always nice when someone stops trying to imprison you."

"Funny."

She wasn't joking. It was interesting that post-breakdown Princess insisted on downplaying her level of crazy.

Princess tightened her grip on Butch's arm. "When will you call her?"

"Whenever." Buttercup answered, tense.

Princess laughed, loud enough to turn a few heads. "My goodness, look at your face! I just don't want your family drama to interrupt my announcement." She zoomed in on the empty space besides Buttercup. "Although, that may not be an issue. Without a guest you're free to do whatever, whenever." She gestured to the spot. "No boyfriend?"

"None of your business."

"I'll take that as a 'no' then, and I can't say I'm too surprised. You've always been so rough and tomboyish. I mean you've spent an entire decade around that trailer trash friend of yours, and judging by his absence, even he isn't interested. Have you even dated before? Oh," she leant closer using a loud-whisper, "maybe a boyfriend just isn't possible for you?"

Buttercup sucked in a breath.

Butch choked on who-the-hell-knew-what. "Hey." He nudged Buttercup. "Hey, do you swing that way?"

She attempted a glare.

"I'm just saying you can tell me." But he wasn't taking it seriously. His lips were twitching like crazy. Butch took a second to flag down a server. "Cat fights are something else. This stuff is gold."

Buttercup frowned, but relaxed. As long as Butch wasn't taking it seriously, she felt like she could breathe easy. Yeah, she was a tomboy. No, she wasn't gay. But based on Robin Snyder's almost-kiss back in eighth grade, she'd be a total heart-breaker if she were into girls.

Princess made a sound of annoyance and grabbed Butch, dragging him away from Buttercup and onto the stage. It occurred to her, that even without his current super strength, Butch could've brushed Princess off like the nuisance she was.

He must be having the time of his life.

Buttercup felt the need to get in one last word- for Mitch's sake, obviously. "Brat."

"Freak."

"Psycho."

"Loser!" Princess snatched up the microphone and tapped it repeatedly, but the guests weren't paying her much attention; she promptly fixed that issue. A snap of her fingers, and the musicians began to play for the first time all evening. A spotlight beamed down on her position center stage. "Princess has arrived! I know, I know, I'm fashionably late, but I come with an announcement. As you are all aware, we're gathered here tonight to celebrate me and my admirable will to survive."

Oh come on.

"So I'd like to thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to make an appearance. But there's one person in particular, who I'd like to thank. He and I experienced an instant connection; he is brave and strong, and still very mysterious," she gestured to Butch, but scowled as the spotlight shifted too far from her position. No doubt someone was getting fired tonight. "Introducing my hero, and someday soon, when he's confident and comfortable enough to reveal his identity…my boyfriend."

The pleased expression Butch had been wearing for her entire speech melted into confusion. "What?"

Princess smiled sweetly, tiptoed, and kissed him.

Buttercup blinked. She turned away, stared at floor, and looked back up. Yes. It was really happening. Princess…

Princess was spoilt. And erratic and desperate and clueless and greedy and spoilt. Just because she liked someone, she'd, what, take them? Her partner's emotions be damned?

But she couldn't voice any of her thoughts. There were too many, and they were too intense, all crashing into each other in their need to be heard. So instead, Buttercup silently made her way back to her table through a crowd of clapping guests.

Bubbles was just sitting down. Her face was clammy and she sat hunched over in her seat. Maybe…food poisoning?

"Are you okay?" Bubbles asked, beating her to it.

Buttercup shrugged.

"You look pale," Bubbles said.

"So do you."

They both sat in silence.

Buttercup took deep breaths, trying to process…everything. And then, "I might have a thing for the Ruff."

Lots of love for all who have read or reviewed this story. I hope you continue to enjoy it.