Chapter Twenty-Eight: Chipped

TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE & SEXUAL ASSAULT

I'm tired of drinking, and my legs hurt; even the models have started leaving. I guess two a.m. is a record for some of them, me included, yet Elizabeth looks as energised as ever.

Her hand grips Edward's thigh, but he casually slides it off his body; even I can tell she is making him uncomfortable, so why can't she? I guess flirting is not for the drunk.

I wobble when I stand but make my way to them; he saved me, so it makes sense that I should save him, too.

"Drinks."

A model says when the door opens again, this time the waiter looks weird; he has a hat on.

Since when have waiters walked around in caps and masks? Is there a past-midnight etiquette?

"Shots, people!"

My hand finds Edward's shoulder.

"You said you wanted to call your sister; I found a quiet spot."

For a few seconds, he blinks before he realises what I mean to do.

"Y-yes, thank you for reminding me."

"It's like midnight. Are you really going to call them now?”

Eliza