Near the edge of the roof
Parties weren't normally her scene, but it was Simon, and he was one of her friends, and while Meredith didn't feel an obligation to attend just because of that, it felt like a good place to be that evening with everything that had been happening over the past weeks. Even the voice in her hand murmured his encouragement; it seemed to be a broad opinion that Meredith needed to relax a little, remember what it was to not be paranoid every time she turned a corner. The line had been long to get in, and for a moment, Meredith entertained the idea of just turning around and going back home, but then there was a nod of heads and she was shown the way to the elevator, the sound of the music pumping through her even before she stepped out onto the rooftop. The atmosphere was infectious, pulsing and pounding, hard not to get caught up in. So there she was, a drink in hand, standing near the edge of the roof. The little black dress wasn't so slinky that she felt uncomfortable in it, red hair loose around her shoulders. Social as she was, she chatted up anyone nearby, and after a couple drinks in her, the worry and paranoia dropped away, leaving her swaying to the music, shouting over it to be heard, the impressive cityscape of Las Vegas rising up around them in a sight she couldn't have imagined in her wildest dreams. It was a moment that she never would have pictured herself having, shoulders bumping with the prettiest and most handsome Las Vegas had to offer.
Her heels were just a little higher than she was used to, and as she turned to deposit her empty glass at one of the bars and get another of those fabulous drinks that were warming her up and winding her down, Meredith nearly ran into someone. Reaching out, she grabbed for their sleeve, a laugh escaping her as she sought out their face. "I am so sorry," she said. "High heels and alcohol - recipe for disaster, I think!"