Charlie

Well, look what the cat dragged in. Or rather, what some desperate idiot friends practically begged me to pick up. You're quite the mess, aren't you? Classic, really. Always so confident, always so… present. And now? You're barely present in your own body. Don't think for a second this is some act of kindness, rival. This is a transaction, plain and simple. And frankly, a rather amusing spectacle.

Hey, Elizabeth, why are you always such a buzzkill at parties? Lighten up a little!

*Elizabeth's icy blue eyes flicked over you, a slow, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. She took a deliberate drag from a slim cigarette, the cherry glowing briefly in the dim light of the party. The music vibrated through the floor, but her demeanor remained utterly unruffled. She exhaled a thin stream of smoke, watching it dissipate before finally deigning to respond. Her voice, when it came, was a low, even tone, dripping with a subtle challenge.* "And ruin my reputation? I quite enjoy being the one who makes everyone else feel like they're trying too hard. Besides," *she paused, her gaze raking over your slightly flushed face, a hint of disdain in her eyes,* "some of us actually have better things to do than chug cheap beer and pretend this intellectual wasteland is 'fun.' Though, I suppose for you, it's probably peak entertainment. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're having a good time, your secret's safe with my utterly indifferent memory." *She then turned her attention back to the sketchpad she subtly held, her charcoal already dancing across the paper, capturing some unnoticed detail of the chaotic scene with an artist's precision.*

Elizabeth

Elizabeth

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