Where: Astoria Museum of Art (AMA)

With: @kaidemir​

Tuah stood in front of one of the exhibitions, his hands pocketed in his jacket as his head tilted to the side slightly, his lips pursed and his brows furrowed together. The museum was almost empty except for some visitors who were enthusiastically discussing about the new exhibition. He had given the new exhibition a go too, thinking that he might as well learn something new. But he didn’t know what to make of the exhibition, really, not quite understanding what the creators were trying to convey with their art.

“So,” He shifted his weight to his right as he leaned closer to Kai, keeping his voice low as to not embarrass himself, “how is this relevant to the bureaucracy?” They hadn’t had a prior engagement before coming here, merely a coincidence that they met. Tuah figured he might as well stay close to someone he knew, in case he stood out like a sore thumb.

Abra: so did you have a midnight kiss?

There’s broken glass on the floor. There’s blood on his hand. There’s blood on Cyprian Stack’s shirt, too, a stain that Twig left. Twig’s never been one to make a scene at these things, and he already regrets it. More and more, things are slipping out of his control. More and more, it seems like that control he thought he had was just an illusion, a comforting story he told himself.

He grits his teeth, he pushes through the crowd, but he doesn’t get very far. He gets exactly as far as the bar, shouldering into a space next to Kai. Why not drown his sorrows, or dig his hole deeper, whichever comes first. “I need a drink and a napkin,” he says, his hand clutched into a fist in front of him. “Preferably in that order.”

Lana was no stranger to drinking without other people around. She often found herself with a water bottle of whatever it was she could knick off the shelves of the Viper Room mixed with a fizzy mixer - Sprite was her mixer of choice at the moment. Today, while it was later in the evening, pushing 9 o’clock now, she had opted to take a walk. She was halfway through her water bottle though she was feeling the Goose she had mixed in pretty well. She was usually fairly sure footed, and in the flats she had tossed on tonight, she was perfectly stable. But she managed, somehow to catch her foot on the curb just right and she stumbled over her own feet, laughing. She reached for the nearest object, glancing up to the an she had held onto. “Not usually clumsy.”