2055, November 7th

Collapse + 6 years

"Ready?"

Winnie nodded.

"Okay then," said Helena. "On three. One. Two. Three."

Helena and Winnie threw back a shot of tequila. It seared Winnie's mouth despite her attempt to taste as little as possible. She knew to swallow the shot in one go, but it took her three swallows nonetheless. The last one malfunctioned as her throat rebelled, and tequila went down her trachea.

Helena slammed her shot glass onto the floor, threw her hands above her head, and whooped. She laughed when Winnie coughed. "You're such a lightweight. I can't believe you've never had liquor before."

Inhaling alcohol had nothing to do with being a lightweight, but Winnie didn't correct Helena. Instead, she shrugged apologetically as she coughed.

Helena sat against her bed and picked up the tequila bottle they'd stolen from a corporate bar on the fifteenth floor. Breaking in had been simple enough since no one was in there on the weekends. Helena had skulked about like a cat burglar in a museum while ordering Winnie to scout ahead with her power. She'd even dressed in dark clothes and had demanded Winnie do the same.

The clandestine mission had been thrilling, until the bar door had opened quite simply with a swipe of Helena's pass card. Either that was a gross security oversight, or the adults figured stealing liquor was a harmless rebellion for a princess.

Helena had clearly selected this tequila because it looked expensive. The bottle was hand-crafted glass. The cap had a wax-cover, and floating around inside was what looked like a bloated caterpillar. She'd asked Helena about this. Helena merely made fun of her naivety.

The two had snuck the bottle back to Helena's suite to lounge at the base of her gargantuan, frilled bed. This was her idea of a midnight break after an evening spent preparing for the charity in two days.

"You ready for another?" Helena shook the bottle playfully.

"I think I need a few minutes."

"Oh come on, this is smooth. Might be one of the better vintages I've had." She swirled the bottle, studying the bloated corpse within. "Danny Torres had a party at his dad's house a couple months ago. He was so proud of his Black Label liquor. It was so gross." She poured another shot into each glass. "Come on. We're never going to get drunk at this rate. Ready?"

Winnie wasn't, but she held up the glass anyway. Helena counted away, licked salt from her wrist, then swallowed the shot in one go. Winnie tried swallowing hers slowly, thinking it might be easier that way. She was wrong. Fortunately, Helena was too busy biting a lime slice to notice Winnie gagging.

Helena whooped again. She laughed at Winnie's scrunched expression. Although Winnie noticed, with a bit of satisfaction, that Helena's eyes were watering.

"You're such a light weight," Helena said again—the phrase of the night apparently. "You're already red."

Winnie felt her cheeks. She hadn't noticed how warm her face felt. Her head seemed improperly weighted too, not too light or too heavy, but something off.

"I've never drank before," Winnie said. "I'm not sure I should have any more."

"Seriously? You're already done? One more."

"What if we watch some more and do another shot later?"

Projected on Helena's wall was a paused image of an old pre-Collapse show about high school students. It had a weird name that Winnie couldn't recall right now. For days, Helena had been catching Winnie up, showing her the pilot and several "good" episodes while narrating her own thoughts along the way. Winnie tried to be interested. She'd certainly watch right now if it saved her from another shot.

"We're not even drunk yet, and you just want to watch television?" Helena studied the tequila bottle. After a pause, she pushed it aside. "Fine. If you want to." She tapped a button on her tablet, and the show resumed.

As Winnie watched, nausea set in. She was constantly swallowing caustic burps. Her head was heavier every time she thought about it. Beside her, Helena sat placidly, watching the show, not narrating as she usually did. Getting drunk struck Winnie as an unnecessary addition to the night. Though it was nice to finally know what getting drunk felt like, even if it felt wretched.

"This is dumb," Helena said. "We're just sitting around. Let's do something else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything."

"We could invite more people over."

"Have you forgotten? No one can come onto the campus this late."

"We could go to them?"

"Don't be stupid. I can't leave. Even if my mom let me, I'd have to bring my bodyguards, who are the biggest buzzkills in the world. Nobody else wants to drink when my guards are standing there eyeballing everyone. Seriously. I'm a prisoner. It's like the only fun I have these days is the basketball outings, and I'm only playing basketball because my mom makes me. It sucks being the princess."

"Yeah, but what about when you're queen? Think about what kind of parties you'll have then. You could order your guards to look the other way."

"I guess so. Sometimes I think that's never going to happen. I'm going to spend my whole life as the heir to the throne and never actually get it." Helena studied her shot glass. Normally talking about her future lifted her mood.

"What about when you turn eighteen?" Winnie asked. "You'll have more freedom then, right?"

"Why would I? I'll still be here. Do you know my mom has already decided where I'm going to college? Guess where? The Lakiran Institute. Just a couple of blocks away. I'll still be living here."

"Wow. Your mom is really protective."

Helena scoffed. "She doesn't give a shit. She hasn't talked to me in over two weeks now. You see her more than I do. I'm just another of her endangered pets. Lock me up and don't touch." Helena poured herself and Winnie another shot. "Even when I try to spend time with her, she just brushes me off. One time, I talked Melanie into letting me come along with my mom for some summit meeting in China or whatever. My mom threw a fit. She bitched out Melanie about going behind her back. And this was during a school break. I wouldn't miss school or anything. I had a hotel room booked and everything. But my mom made Melanie cancel it all."

Helena held up her shot glass and looked at Winnie to do the same. Winnie didn't argue it. After the shot, Helena did not bother whooping.

"She cares more about her fucking animals than she does me. At least she visits them once in a while."

"Willow and Marzipan?"

"All of them. Haven't you seen the thirty first floor?"

"No." Winnie recalled Madeline mentioning that floor when she first visited—four floors dedicated to environmental restoration. She never did take Madeline up on the tour. "Does your mom go there a lot?"

"At least once a week. It's supposed to be a restricted area. The trainers are trying to make the animals ready to go in the wild. Whenever I go there, they tell me I'm acclimating them to humans and kick me out. But then my mom goes there and plays with them like they're a bunch of toy poodles."

"Weird."

"Fucking stupid is what it is."

Helena flopped back against her bed, nearly knocking over the bottle. They watched the show in silence.

"Hey," Helena sat up and grinned. "You want to go check it out?"

"I thought you said you weren't allowed in there."

"I'm not, but who cares? Come on. Bring the tequila."

Helena was already headed toward the door, so Winnie collected the drinks, waited for the room to stop spinning, and followed.