Bright Young Things

by Thomas, Scarlett

  ‘You went to Israel?’ asks Bryn.

  ‘Yeah. On a Kibbutz.’

  ‘My mate did that,’ he says.

  Everyone waits for the story, but there doesn’t seem to be one.

  ‘Right,’ says Emily. ‘What happens is that someone goes first, say for example it was me. So then I choose the person who I want to ask, say for example Anne, and then she has to choose either truth or dare. If she chooses truth, then I ask her a question to which she has to give an honest answer. If she chooses dare, then I have to come up with a dare for her to do. Then it’s her turn to choose the person she wants to ask, and they choose truth or dare, and so on. That’s it.’

  ‘What if the person doesn’t want to answer the question?’ says Jamie.

  ‘They have to,’ says Emily.

  ‘What if they refuse, though?’ says Thea.

  ‘Then they have to take a dare,’ says Emily. ‘And if they pick truth and then lie – Paul, I hope you’re paying attention to this bit – then they have to do the forfeit.’

  ‘Forfeit? says Jamie. ‘That sounds ominous.’

  ‘Oh, it is,’ says Emily. ‘We’ll choose it now. I think it should be to run around the island five times – naked.’

  ‘Cool,’ says Anne, giggling.

  ‘You’re not serious?’ says Jamie. ‘It’s dark out there. Someone could fall.’

  ‘We’d better tell the truth then,’ says Paul, smiling.

  ‘Are we all agreed?’ asks Emily.

  Everyone nods, apart from Thea, who’s frowning.

  ‘Can I just watch?’ she says.

  ‘No,’ says Emily. ‘It has to be everyone.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, if you watch, you’ll get to hear all our secrets, but we won’t get to hear any of yours. It won’t be very fair.’

  ‘Hang on,’ says Bryn. ‘What do you mean, secrets?’

  ‘Duh. That’s, like, the point of Truth or Dare,’ says Emily.

  ‘I thought the point of Truth or Dare was to get laid,’ says Paul.

  ‘That’s Russian Post Office,’ says Emily.

  ‘And Truth or Dare,’ says Anne.

  ‘What would you know?’ asks Bryn. ‘It’s not as if you get laid very often.’

  ‘I still know,’ she says. ‘And I think I’ve played this more often than you.’

  ‘So how come you haven’t got laid then?’ he asks.

  ‘Because I never choose dare, silly,’ she says.

  ‘What’s Russian Post Office?’ asks Jamie, but no one answers.

  ‘So, is everybody in?’ asks Emily.

  ‘Doesn’t look like we have much choice,’ grumbles Thea.

  Jamie looks like he’s going to take this very seriously.

  Paul sits up and crosses his legs. Anne turns away from the fire to face everyone.

  Emily’s sitting forward, her elbows on her knees.

  ‘Right, who’s going first?’ she says.

  ‘You should, since you know how to play,’ says Jamie.

  ‘OK. Then I pick Paul.’

  Paul tips his head back and smiles up at her. ‘Fire away,’ he says.

  ‘All right. Do you want to fuck Anne?’

  ‘Emily!’ says Anne. ‘You can’t ask that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You never ask those questions first in Truth or Dare.’

  ‘Hang on, what do you mean, those questions?’ asks Thea.

  ‘Never mind,’ says Emily.

  Anne’s right. Sexual questions should be introduced slowly, later in the game.

  ‘Do I have to answer?’ asks Paul.

  ‘No,’ says Anne, picking fluff off the rug.

  ‘I reckon Paul should start, then,’ says Jamie, lighting a cigarette. Emily gives him a saucer from her ashtray pile. ‘Cheers,’ he says, balancing it on the edge of the sofa.

  ‘Right,’ says Paul. ‘Emily, then.’

  Emily smiles. ‘Moi?’

  ‘Truth or dare?’

  ‘Truth.’

  He thinks for a moment. ‘Have you ever considered suicide?’

  ‘Cheerful,’ says Bryn.

  ‘Yeah, what kind of question is that?’ asks Thea. ‘I thought this was supposed to be fun. I’d rather answer a sexual question that that.’

  ‘You don’t have to answer,’ Jamie says to Emily.

  ‘It’s all right,’ says Emily. ‘We can’t keep vetoing questions.’

  She doesn’t mind, she’s just thinking about how to answer.

  ‘I heard a story about this guy,’ starts Anne, distractedly making a little pile of her bits of fluff. ‘It was on TV. He was depressed, so he decided to kill himself. When he got home from work he took a load of painkillers and sleeping pills and went to bed. Four hours later he woke up, not dead. So then he decided to cut his wrists, so he ran a bath and lay in it, got a razor and slit both his wrists. But that didn’t seem to be working either, so he tried to electrocute himself by dropping the toaster in the bath. When none of that worked, he called an ambulance and went to casualty.’

  ‘I think I know that bloke,’ says Bryn.

  ‘You would,’ comments Paul.

  ‘Emily?’ says Thea. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m just thinking,’ she says.

  ‘Don’t you know whether you’ve ever considered suicide?’ asks Anne.

  ‘Anne!’ says Jamie.

  ‘Sorry,’ she says. ‘But this game is a bit slow.’

  ‘Yes, I have considered it,’ Emily says eventually.

  ‘Have you ever actually tried to kill yourself?’ asks Paul.

  ‘Now that would be another question,’ says Emily. ‘But yes, since you ask.’

  ‘Gosh,’ says Jamie. ‘Why?’

  ‘You know,’ says Emily dismissively. ‘Life was getting me down. I was a teenager.’

  ‘Because you were a teenager?’ says Jamie, shocked. ‘I was a teenager, but I never . . .’

  ‘Yes, well,’ says Emily. ‘It was just one of those things.’

  Jamie looks like he could never understand this. He puts out his cigarette.

  ‘I want to live forever,’ says Paul. ‘But I wouldn’t mind dying now.’

  Thea laughs. ‘Is that some sort of dada statement?’ she asks.

  ‘It is now,’ says Paul.

  ‘I’d rather die now than live forever,’ says Thea.

  ‘Why?’ says Emily, looking aghast. ‘Wouldn’t you want to live forever?’

  ‘No,’ says Thea. ‘It would be awful. Give us a fag, Jamie.’

  Jamie gives her one from the packet of Silk Cut they now seem to be sharing.

  ‘Yeah, have you never seen Highlander?’ asks Bryn. ‘Fucked up, man.’

  ‘That’s a good point,’ says Jamie. ‘You wouldn’t want to see everyone you loved die.’

  ‘Unless they were immortal as well,’ says Emily, pouring wine.

  ‘If everyone was immortal that would be all right,’ says Jamie. ‘That would be cool.’

  ‘It would be cool anyway,’ says Paul. ‘I’m planning to download my thoughts into some other place just before I die, if they’ve developed the technology in time, that is.’

  ‘Be a bit of a fucker if they hadn’t,’ says Emily. ‘Or if they developed it just after you died.’ She laughs. ‘How gutted would you be?’

  ‘He wouldn’t be gutted if he was dead,’ Anne points out.

  ‘What would you do?’ Paul asks Anne.

  ‘What would I do if what?’ she asks.

  ‘If you had to choose whether to die now or live forever?’

  ‘Either of those would be OK,’ she says.

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ says Emily. ‘Both would suck. I thought we just said that.’

  ‘No,’ corrects Anne. ‘What we have now sucks. I think anyone with half a brain would be desperate to either die now or live forever. That’s why I understand people killing themselves. It’s going to happen eventually, so why wait? That’s the most fucked up thing about
life. You know it’s going to end. It has to end, but you never know when it’s going to be. You could be knocked down by a car on the way to school age twelve, or you could live to be a hundred. You never know when your time’s going to be up. That is what sucks. I never really plan what I’m doing tomorrow or the next day, because I know that there might not be a tomorrow or a next day. My house could catch fire while I’m asleep, or an axe-murderer could break in, or I could just have one of those twenty-something cot deaths. So if you knew you were going to live forever, life would be a whole load more fun, because you wouldn’t be waiting for it to end all the time. At the moment, life’s like sitting down to watch the only copy of a great film on a dodgy projector, not knowing if the projector’s going to break halfway through. I’d kill myself if I had the guts, just to take the element of chance out of it. I mean, if you weren’t sure you could watch the film all the way through, you wouldn’t watch it, would you? You wouldn’t want to risk being disappointed.’

  People seem surprised at her outburst.

  ‘I think living forever would rule,’ says Bryn.

  ‘We wouldn’t be worried about being here then, would we?’ says Paul.

  ‘You’re not worried now,’ Thea reminds him.

  ‘No, there is that,’ he concedes. ‘Anyway, whose turn is it?’

  ‘Mine,’ says Emily. ‘I choose Anne.’

  ‘Me?’ says Anne.

  ‘Yeah. Truth or dare.’

  ‘Truth,’ she says.

  ‘All right. If you had to be stuck on a desert island—’

  Everyone groans.

  ‘Seriously,’ she says. ‘If you had to be stuck on a desert island with one other person, who would you choose?’

  ‘I’m already stuck on a desert island with five other people,’ Anne points out.

  ‘Narrow it down to one person,’ says Jamie.

  She sighs. ‘Does it have to be one of you lot?’

  ‘No,’ says Emily. ‘Anyone in the world. Who would you choose?’

  ‘Um, I’d probably choose to be by myself,’ she says, after a few moments’ thought.

  ‘You wouldn’t really, though,’ says Emily. ‘Would you?’

  Anne thinks for a minute. ‘Maybe,’ she says. ‘Well, I guess that would have been my answer before I came here. But maybe . . . Now I know what it’s like, I probably wouldn’t want to be left here alone. And if I had to pick one person, it probably would be one of you lot, since I don’t have any other friends. Probably Paul, Jamie or Emily. No offence Bryn and Thea, but neither of you like me, so I wouldn’t choose you.’

  ‘I like you,’ says Bryn.

  Thea looks uncomfortable, but says nothing.

  ‘You don’t have any other friends?’ says Jamie. ‘Apart from us?’

  ‘No,’ says Anne. ‘I like being by myself.’

  ‘Gosh,’ says Jamie.

  ‘It’s my choice,’ says Anne. ‘I like it.’

  ‘What’s special about us?’ asks Jamie.

  ‘Nothing. I’m just stuck with you.’

  ‘So are you going to pick one person?’ says Emily.

  ‘Like I said – either you, Paul or Jamie.’

  ‘You have to choose one,’ says Emily.

  ‘Um . . . you, then,’ says Anne quickly.

  ‘Cool,’ says Emily. ‘Thanks.’ She wonders if that’s really the truth, but doesn’t want to challenge it.

  It’s Anne’s turn. ‘I pick . . . um . . .’

  ‘Come on,’ says Emily.

  ‘All right. Bryn, then. Truth or dare?’

  ‘Dare,’ says Bryn.

  ‘Dare,’ repeats Anne. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘All right. Um . . .’

  ‘Can’t you think of one?’ asks Emily.

  ‘Hang on,’ says Anne. ‘All right, Bryn. You have to sing a Wham! song of your choice, in the style of an old woman on her deathbed.’

  ‘What?’ he says.

  The others laugh.

  ‘That’s a cool one,’ says Emily.

  ‘Can’t I have truth?’ says Bryn.

  ‘Nope. You have to do it now,’ says Anne.

  ‘And you have to stand up to do it,’ says Emily.

  ‘What, if he’s an old woman on her deathbed?’ says Thea.

  ‘All right, then,’ says Emily, getting up. ‘You can lie on the sofa and do it.’

  Bryn reclines on the sofa. ‘Bollocks,’ he says. ‘Any Wham! song?’

  ‘Yeah,’ says Anne.

  He thinks for a minute, looks a bit uncomfortable, then he starts.

  ‘Da, da, da . . .’ he croaks really slowly. ‘Woah woah yeah,’

  Emily recognises it as ‘Freedom’. She starts giggling. So does Anne.

  By the time he reaches the chorus, everyone’s howling with laughter.

  ‘Aren’t you dead yet?’ asks Thea.

  ‘Girl all I want right now is—’

  ‘Get him off,’ shouts Emily through cupped hands.

  Anne throws some carpet fluff at him.

  He looks up. ‘Have I done enough yet?’ he asks in his normal voice.

  ‘No,’ says Paul. ‘I think we want to hear to the end.’

  ‘Please say he’s done enough,’ says Emily. ‘I can’t take any more.’

  ‘OK,’ says Anne. ‘That’s enough.’

  Bryn sits up, coughs a lot and lights a cigarette. Emily sits back down beside him.

  ‘Bryn’s turn to choose,’ says Anne, getting up and walking to the door.

  ‘Where are you going?’ demands Emily.

  ‘Nowhere,’ says Anne defensively, leaving the room.

  ‘I pick Paul,’ says Bryn.

  ‘Truth,’ says Paul.

  ‘All right,’ says Bryn. ‘If you could choose between being stupid and happy, or clever and miserable, which would you choose?’

  ‘That is such a cool question,’ says Emily.

  ‘Cheers,’ he says. ‘I heard it on TV once.’

  ‘Hmm,’ says Paul. ‘Stupid and happy, I suppose.’

  ‘I’d much rather be stupid and happy too,’ says Emily. ‘What about everyone else?’

  ‘Stupid and happy,’ says Thea.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ says Jamie. ‘It’s basically the two choices you have in life anyway, isn’t it?’ He looks thoughtful. ‘Not that they are choices, strictly, but everyone falls into one category or the other.’

  ‘Are you saying being clever makes you unhappy?’ says Thea.

  ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘It does, if you think about it.’

  ‘I suppose the more you know, the more there is to fear,’ says Thea.

  ‘Yeah,’ says Emily. ‘You understand how fucked up the world is.’

  Anne returns with a big glass of strawberry milkshake.

  ‘But all stupid people aren’t happy,’ Thea points out.

  ‘Yeah,’ says Paul. ‘Look at the guests on Jerry Springer.’

  ‘Mmm,’ says Emily. ‘But it wouldn’t take much to make those people happy.’

  ‘That’s true,’ says Paul. ‘You could just give them all drugs and they’d be happy.’

  ‘And stupid,’ says Jamie.

  ‘Maybe that’s why people take drugs,’ says Thea.

  ‘What, to make them happy and stupid?’ asks Emily.

  ‘That’s exactly why people take drugs,’ says Bryn. ‘And I should know.’

  A couple of people nod. This makes sense.

  ‘So you reckon it would be hard to make a clever person happy?’ asks Paul.

  ‘Yeah,’ says Jamie.

  ‘Exactly,’ says Emily. ‘Unless you count something like Prozac, but then that’s the happy and stupid drug thing again.’

  ‘That must be why we’re all so unhappy then,’ jokes Anne.

  ‘What would make you happy?’ Thea asks Paul.

  ‘Being here,’ he says enigmatically, in a kind of mumble.

  ‘Anyway,’ says Jamie, lighting another cigarette. ‘It’s your turn.’


  ‘Oh, yeah,’ says Paul. ‘Bryn.’

  ‘Truth,’ says Bryn. ‘I’m not going to make that mistake again.’

  ‘What’s the best drug you’ve ever done?’ Paul asks.

  ‘Crack,’ says Bryn, without hesitation. ‘Completely.’

  ‘You’ve done crack?’ says Emily.

  ‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Best fucking buzz in the world. Totally.’

  ‘Don’t you get addicted to it really easily?’ asks Jamie.

  ‘Yeah,’ says Bryn. ‘I was lucky not to get too sucked in.’

  ‘What happened?’ asks Thea.

  ‘What was it like?’ asks Emily.

  ‘It was amazing. The best feeling in the world.’

  ‘Better than an orgasm?’ says Jamie.

  ‘Yeah, totally.’

  ‘Better than winning the Lottery?’ asks Emily.

  ‘Probably,’ he says. ‘Although a crack-head would get a good feeling winning the Lottery, because he’d know he could spend all the money on rocks.’ He licks his lips. ‘It’s hard to know how to describe what it’s really like. It’s completely intense, but not anything like heroin. It’s a lot more like charlie, obviously, because it’s the cocaine base that you’re smoking anyway.’

  ‘What?’ says Jamie.

  ‘Cocaine that you buy is actually cocaine hydrochloride,’ explains Bryn. ‘Plus whatever other shit the dealer cuts it with, and his dealer cuts it with, and his dealer, and so on. You can make a chemical reaction take place using ammonia or bicarb or whatever, where you make the hydrochloride part separate off and burn away along with all the other crap. You’re left with rocks made of pure cocaine.’

  ‘And that’s all crack is?’ says Jamie.

  ‘Yeah,’ says Bryn. ‘So the buzz is kind of similar. But you don’t have to wait for it, it’s just completely instant. It makes you feel totally relaxed – like, the happiness and confidence of charlie without the nervousness and anxiety. You get this massive smile on your face. It’s like that feeling you get when you sneeze, but it doesn’t last for just one second. Mind you, it’s not as rushy as a sneeze, it’s more mellow, like just after you’ve come or something. In fact . . . you know when you laugh so hard that you think you’re going to wet yourself? Well, it’s just like that, but without the actual laughing or the pain in your stomach. It’s like being really thirsty and then drinking a huge glass of Coca Cola, or having a dump when you’ve been waiting for ages to get into the loo, or sitting down after you’ve been on your feet all day, or having a bag of chips by the seaside, or a cream cake after you’ve been on a diet for ages. Just pure pleasure.’