This bar is upper-class and elegant, not like the clubs I frequented in the city and Camilla had been
extremely strict about which outfit I put on for our evening. I’m in a fitted cocktail dress, black with
subtle beading, hair straightened and sleek, and killer black stilettos to finish it all off. I look more like a
girl in her mid-twenties than the baby faced one from this morning and the whole outfit makes me seem
taller and somehow womanlier. I feel more in control, less roadkill, and this new confidence from my
hair and clothes is helping me relax.
Camilla is already working the room with champagne in hand and dragging me along behind her like a
pet puppy. I am completely out of my depth in this scene, despite having a family that frequents these
kinds of places a lot. I have often been too young to go anywhere like this, or chosen not to, and I’m
doing my utmost to act like I’m relaxed and casual about being here.
“Sophie, this is Malcolm, he’s a banker and a lush bit in the sack.” Camilla giggles, leaning in and
whispering something provocative in the young man’s ear before pulling back and running a finger
down his tie. Mostly all the men in here are wearing expensive suits and good tailoring, and everyone
reeks of money. Surprisingly, Camilla seems well-known and I sort of smile shyly at him.
“Well hello, Sophie, a pleasure.” Malcolm is tall and blonde, but not overly handsome. He extends a
hand to me, kissing the back of mine when I connect to shake it. Uncomfortable immediately, my gut
saying something is off in this whole scene, but then I’ve never really been used to his class of party.
I’ve avoided most charity events my family attend and prefer New York’s more urban nightlife to social
niceties by the upper crust. Malcolm just gives me the creep vibes because, well, let’s face it... he’s
male, and most men do that to me.
“Hi.” I smile briefly, pulling my glass in front of me to fold my arms across my chest and his eyes rest on
the hint of cleavage I have on show. This isn’t an overly revealing dress but gives enough hints to be
sexy, and despite dressing like a ‘cheap hooker’ in the past, according to Arrick, I’m more
uncomfortable with Malcolm’s eyes trained on what little skin I am showing. Camilla knows how to
dress for a reaction, and I am seeing the result up close.
I have been on a downer ever since I called Arrick this afternoon, ended up in tears while taking a
shower to get ready and spent a long-time mulling everything over in front of my vanity when applying
my makeup. I hoped coming out would make me feel better, but I just feel dead inside. Somehow,
telling him to never call me again seems more final than just dodging his calls. Really severing my
connection to him, and it’s killing me inside, like I’m half of a person.
“Sophie, do you like to party?” Malcolm moves in closer, leaning into me as Camilla slides past him to
talk to another man behind in the crowded bar and leaves me alone. I have zero interest in Malcolm, he
isn’t even that charming, and I want to just move on out of here and go eat like she said we would. So
far, we haven’t made it from the bar of this place, which seems to be an actual hotel and not a
restaurant at all.
“I used to, I guess. I’m trying to tone it down nowadays.” I try to maneuver myself a little space, but he
leans in further so I can feel his breath down the front of my dress.
“Oh, that’s a shame. Camilla throws some killer parties and I would love to see you on the girl list.” He
smiles in my face, the stench of booze hitting me hard and I try not to visibly gag.
“What do you mean girl list?” I frown, raising my voice to be heard over the crowd as Camilla seems to
cut back in.
“Come on now you two, no one seems to be getting drunk!” Camilla pushes herself between us, turning
to catch the bottom of my glass and pushes it up against my mouth. “Down, down, down.” She chants
with a smile, forcing me to gulp down most of the glass in one go. I almost choke with the effort as the
liquid comes up, before running back down my nose because of the rapid intake. I cough violently as I
try to sniff it away painfully, screwing up my face with the effort. Camilla grabs my glass and
immediately thrusts another in its place.
“No, really, I’m trying to …” I protest, but Camilla tries to force another in the same way.
“You need to loosen up babes, you’re stiffer than a board and we need to let our hair down. I’m not
trying to get you smashed, just merry drunk, so you can chill out and have a little fun. Trust me; I’ll take
good care of you, Sophieboo.” Camilla raises an expectant eyebrow my way, smiling widely as I eye
her warily. My head is telling me to relax and trust her, but my gut is telling me to get out of here and
just go home. I know this is probably the last place I should be tonight while trying to prove to my family
they can trust me. It really is the last place I want to be right now either.
I place the new glass to my lips, vowing I will only have a couple and then cradle anymore she tries to
pour down my throat. I don’t want to go home in the same mess I became in New York. I’m beyond all
that and know that alcohol will only blur everything. I want to stay levelheaded-.
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