all the world's a stage

Or so, she thought. You see, Layla Bennett was not the type of person to sit alone in a place like this with a drink in her hands. Her life was too good. She was known for something different; class, status, popularity. None of which suggested she was someone who liked to drink alone. And she wasn't, not really. She'd teased others for the same exact issue most nights. But tonight, she was in the city, after a lunch with her father that morning. She'd had retail therapy but she couldn't quite shake this feeling she'd had ever since she arrived back at Penbrook for the fall semester.

She was head of the house in her sorority, and made sure every Delta knew it. Nothing ever came to pass if it didn't run by her first. And that was fine, that was something she was used to. What she wasn't used to was how well her friends, her actual friends, had got along without her. And how little attention any of them had paid her since she'd come back into town. She wasn't about to admit that it meant anything, or god forbid that she was losing her power, because that would be the end of her. No, she was only at a checkpoint in the game. She saw the challenge and had to take it, figure out a way to win.

One little drink wasn't going to hurt her.

"Vodka Martini. Thanks." Layla offered, to the bartender that had a curious look on his face. One she hadn't cared to notice or acknowledge, just look down at the surface of the bar as she slipped her coat off of her shoulders. 

She stayed like that for a good moment, into herself until she took a second to look around as she waited on her drink. And then, something caught her eye. Someone.

"Adam?" Layla asked, peering slightly at the person next to her. It was dim, sure, but not enough to where she'd be unable to recognize that head of golden-blonde hair.

"Hey, Layla." Adam spoke, though not taking his eyes away from where they were fixated. He had a glass of scotch in front of him, though he'd been at least pacing himself.

"What happened to you?" She asked, not without reason. This kid had been lost from everyone's eyes ever since the news of him and that one regular girl. 

"Nothing. Just came out for a drink. It's the fourteenth, you know." Adam mused.

"Yeah, I do know that. I'm surprised you know, with the way you're looking. How hard did Will hit you?" Layla smirked, softly like she was only teasing. But a small part of her was actually amused.

When she thought about it, it wasn't clear why she was talking to him like this. They'd never been all that close. Actually, apart from now they never had even had a real conversation. But they still considered each other friends, even if it was only by association.

"Hard enough. It's fine." Adam shrugged, causing Layla to raise a brow. Quickly, he added, "What are you even doing here? Don't you have a fundraiser to plan, or something."

It was a weak attempt to dissuade her. She shrugged it off. "I could say the same for you. What are you doing here?" She repeated, although the same words sounded tamer in her voice. Deceptively tamer.

He let out a sigh. "Well... I couldn't use these." He said, sliding a pair of plane tickets towards her. "So I'm here."

She didn't waste a second, the gears in her mind already turning. Picking up the plane tickets, she peered at them with a cocked brow, staring for a second only to tear them in half, right down the middle.

Adam only stared at her in confusion.

"You don't want to go to Paris. It's all fashion and art, not much use for a man traveling alone." Layla said, rolling her shoulders as she leaned into the counter. "But you can't stay here."

"Why not?" Adam frowned, looking at her like he'd never felt more out of the loop.

It was a good question, but she knew the answer. Everyone had been so concerned over Adam lately, what better way to be the hero on everyone's mind than to be the one that cheered him up? She could spend a day or two with him somewhere tropical, or maybe somewhere unexpected, like Scotland. It didn't matter. As soon as they got back, she'd have stories to tell. It was almost too easy, too perfect.