Most things in Elsie Brydon's life did. Her (and her twin brother's) conception, a drunken kiss followed by a hook up between her father and her mother. It was almost poetic that her own child would be conceived the same way.
She hadn't been invited to the BAFTA's as a guest, but she had been invited to the dozens of after parties that were held nearby.
Elsie had spent the last six years in a committed relationship, that had been until her boyfriend had said things weren't working, she didn't understand why, they had gotten a dog together, had lived together, but her boyfriend had been adamant. They were still friends, and he regularly saw the dog.
So Elsie had spent five months straight partying, A BAFTA afterparty was just slightly more fancy than the clubs she frequented with her friends.
She had made her way over to the bar after dancing with some random man, probably an actor of some sort for twenty minutes, there she had found him, Paul Mescal had been at the bar silently drinking.
After ordering a rum and coke she leant herself over the bar, closing her eyes for a moment. She hadn't realised until she was touched by Paul, who quickly asked "You alright?"
Elsie had turned to see him, and nodded, before the barman handed her a drink. "Fine, the lights just fuck with my eyes, they're too intense." She replied, before taking a sip of her drink.
