Sweet Tooth [HS]

THIRTY FOUR

Later.

Max wanted to go home. And they'd only just arrived.

They'd been escorted by this big security guard, Dave, who actually was lovely, to this enormous lounge room that Max had no idea existed at these shows. It was lit by neon lights, casting the room in a dark purple glow that made all the white leather furniture look like it belonged on a space ship. There was a huge glittering bar at the back of the room, and there were tall glass tables dotted around that people, that strangers, were standing around and talking loudly at. They all looked like aliens, Max thought. But she couldn't take her eyes off them.

There was a group of people laughing at a table just to the right of the bar, who just screamed money and status. The three women were tall, sort of amazonian looking, with shiny earrings and dark lipstick and heels with red bottoms. They all wore long, slinky dresses that hugged their immaculate bodies, that accentuated their breasts and hung just right off their hips. Max looked down at her tragically flat chest.

Ugh.

The men in the group were all equally as attractive as these model-like women. They had signet rings on their pinky fingers and perfectly gelled hair. Their shirts were all tastefully unbuttoned and their polished leather shoes shon just as much as their teeth. Max wondered how rich people all managed to look like they came off a runway. Unless, she thought, these people actually had.

There were also other small groups of people, of strangers who were dotted around the lounge, laughing, drinking, talking about things that Max would never know. There were two men in deep discussion sat down on a sofa, both in tailored suits and Max thought she recognised them from somewhere. And then there was another group of four women, who again, looked straight out of a Vogue photoshoot. They were a blur of feathers and sparkles and straight teeth and false eyelashes, they were glamorous, beautiful, and they too were strangely familiar. Max tried to place them, but her mind was in overload.

She couldn't seem to process what was going on from where she stood, all she could think was how much she didn't belong inside this room that just stank of money. That looked like it. That was infested by people who had it.

She shook her head and tried to stop thinking about it, wishing she could press her forehead against the cool metal of the bar.

Rory was on her right, drinking a beer, and Lexie stood on her other side, sipping on some extravagant cocktail with a silly name, and then there was Max between them. Speechless. Terrified. Hating her life.

"Max?" Came Lexie's voice beside her. She was looking up at her, gesturing forcefully towards the bartender. The dark, glittery eyeshadow that covered her lids made her blue eyes pop in the dim lighting of the room.

"What?" Max asked, confused.

"To drink? What do you want?"

Max glanced up to the bartender and felt her face going red. He was looking at her expectantly and Max got the feeling he might have asked her what she wanted more than once.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't catch that," she mumbled. "Er- can I have," she paused, taking a second to mull over her options. A beer wasn't alcoholic enough. She wasn't happy enough for a cocktail. No. She wanted something strong. "Could I get a double gin and tonic, please?"

The bartender nodded and Max could feel Lexie's weary eyes on her.

"And could we get three tequila shots, as well, please?" Lexie asked, and Max just knew she knew what she was thinking.

The bartender nodded kindly, and handed Max her g&t. He then lined up three shot glasses, filling them to the rim with the sticky spirit and passed one to each of the trio.