Oliver wanted a drink, but he decided against it, instead just looking up at the front of the room, where the stage was with politicians and public figures glad-handing and pretending to care, his lips pursed slightly. He wasn’t in the VIP section, hating that he was even grouped together with that crowd of tasteless aristocrats. Oliver had donated to the auction, hoping that the money would go towards the city, but knowing that it was probably going to pay for all this, instead. His cynicism grew almost unbearable—he stepped outside for a breath of fresh air.
For somebody who wasn’t twenty one yet, Mia had gotten her way through enough champagne to make her tipsy. Not knowing if she needed to throw up or and just get some fresh air, she headed outside, sneaking out a cigarette. She didn’t smoke often, not since living with Ollie, but recently she had been giving in to her cravings. She had only had a few drags before the familiar figure left, causing her to throw the cig in hope he hadn’t seen it. “Ollie. Long time no see pal.” Despite her words the enthusiasm was not matched in her face, looking as annoyed as ever.
