#aleventstarter

Faye had felt the buzzing in her hidden pocket that was sewn into her dress. Someone was calling her. Pulling it out and taking a glance, she saw the name. Michael Alexander. Clenching her jaw, she stuffed it back into her pocket and tried to ignore the continuing vibration. At least he hadn't come tonight. Faye figured that he was home, staring at his remaining beers, thinking about the last bit of his stash that was hidden away. He had fucked everything up for himself and she wanted to hate him for it.

Five minutes later, her phone was still buzzing. It was causing the beads on the torso of her dress to shake and make noise. With frustrated sigh, she pulled it out again and looked down. When it finished buzzing, she stared, watching a voicemail pop up on the screen. She didn't want to listen to it. She didn't want to hear his voice-- endure his excuses. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, Faye turned, moving swiftly through the crowd and back toward the kitchen. She met the kitchen manager at the door with a smile. She knew him-- he only worked in the ballroom for events. His full time job used to be in the ER. 

"Hi, Brad, " she said timidly. He turned toward her, his eyebrows raised and a smile on his face. 

"Faye, back in town, I see. How are you?" The two talked for a moment-- Faye didn't mention her father-- and she blinked up at him with her phone in her hand. 

"Listen, is there any way I can slip back here where its quieter to listen to a voicemail? Its important."

A minute later, Faye was in the kitchen with the phone to her ear.

-------

Faye sat on a stack of crates in the corner, head against the wall. Her eyes were glossy and she was biting her lip. Only when she heard the voice of another did she jerk out of her trance.