❝ some guy with an undercut just called me soy boy. ❞
perhaps ... they should have heeded colette's forewarnings with a little more than just a laugh. how bad can a party of bloodsucks really be ? at least there would be free-flowing alcohol far older than twice of her lifetime, not to mention networking with the characteristically scornful bunch often fitting the guestlist of las vegas' most infamous. money makes the world go 'round, as well as pay for their frequent flights to meet a certain someone. small talk wears at social battery far quicker than it should at that particular night, the assassin finding themself hiding with their phone in hand as they await said bumbling, walking scarecrow. “ did you get my dr- what ? ” azurian lifts + lands at man ... nay, boy, who looks closer to a kid playing dress up in his father's tailored suits — laughter breaks out as tati sports the first smile of the night. maybe they misjudged the night afterall. “ which one ? the guy sucking face with a girl who looks young enough to be his grandkid ? ” a scoff wedges. “ or was it the bad edward cullen cosplay with the weird trench coat ? ”
