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Happy Nights to Happy Days † 3

 I feel like I've walked in to Scarface's home, when I step in through the mansion doors. Domed glass ceiling, grand marble foyer, double wrought iron staircase and I thought my parents were over indulgent.

  "Crazy, huh?" Logan leans over and whispers in my ear.

  "Yeah-" I say, impressed, looking around the foyer again. "Whose party did you say this was again?"

  "Some investment mogul." Logan shrugs.  

  As we make our way through the crowd, my eyes catch something red moving above me and I look up to a girl crossing the hall to the staircase and turn down the stairs followed by a girl with red hair in a teal gown that looks strangely like The Little Mermaid to me. My heart pumps as I watch her descend the stairs. There is no way. I would recognize those slim hands, that graceful walk, that body, anywhere. She reaches the bottom of the stairs and smiles at one of the guests - and there is no oxygen in my lungs. Felise. I push through the crowd to get to her, but she's already ending the conversation with the guest and making her way through the crowd in the opposite direction, away from me. I push harder and a woman yells, "Hey!" 

  "Sorry," I murmur, but I keep going.

  I follow her through a room modeled after the sitting rooms of the French Court, then down a short hallway, before I find myself stumbling in to a large ballroom that looks amazingly like a haunted garden. They spent some major money on this place for it to look like this, for in the French Rococo sitting room none of that was it's original furniture. I could tell because none of the imprints in the rug matched the legs to the furniture. Fog creeps up around my legs, as I try to find Felise through the crowd making me feel like I'm trudging through quick sand.

  "Here. Drink up." I look up to Logan holding out a drink to me, pulling me to a stop.

  "No thanks man," I decline, as I search the crowd again. I look back down at it. Matter of fact, I may need it.

  "What is it?" I ask.

  "Something to wake you up," Logan answers, sardonically. "You look like the walking dead."

  I suppress rolling my eyes and take the drink, knocking it back. I scrunch up my nose, as the spicy liquid burns down my throat. "Is that Ginseng?"

  "Yeah, I took it from your mom's cabinet," Logan answers, knocking his own drink back.

  "Where did you get the drink?" I ask, trying to find Felise, only to notice that there's no place to get drinks in here.

  "You passed right by it. There's an open bar behind the living room," Logan replies, looking down at me, surprised I didn't see it. Then his eyes light up and he's smiling, slyly. "Don't tell me -" 

  My eyes find Felise again and she's following her friend through a doorway in the back. I notice red angel wings through the sheer back of her dress, as she turns and I can't tell whether they are part of the dress or tattoos. She looks behind herself, as if to check if anyone is watching her and enters through the doorway. The door closes behind them and I take off after them, tugging Logan after me. "Come on."

  Guests enter behind them and I grab the door just in time after the last person and follow. A spiral staircase takes us down in to a deafening loud Bollywood decorated basement, as a DJ spins against a back wall. People my age are mostly down here, compared to upstairs and I see why. The vibrant colors, dark lighting, no adults, the loud music, and no inhibitions. Young adults occupy a bed with hanging lavender sheers in a room lounging and talking, as we pass and others dance and grind to the music blasting through the speakers in the living room, while others walk around with drinks in their hands and socialize. It's too dark and crowded down here for me to find Felise, as Logan and I snake through the crowd. Logan grabs my shoulder bringing me to his attention and yells over the music, "I'm going to walk around!"