Parties were a good excuse for many of the things she often did regardless: dressing up, drinking too much, people watching. She liked them for that reason, naturally, but also because it was a way to fall back in with everyone else -- a reason for the others to band together in one place, to behave as a cohesive group, tie separate units into one thriving whole. Part of the celebration was for Sing Sing, of course. We're surviving.
Are we living?
The question was more amusing than serious, especially with the half bottle of wine currently pulsing in her blood. Already mildly intoxicated before arrival, Ellie had half forgotten a costume. Instead she'd opted for one of her nicer dresses -- a small cream-colored tube of fabric-- with a pair of rabbit ears to match. Everything now spun solidly, warmly to the right, and every song was suddenly perfect for dancing. (Which she did, quite happily, while pouring herself a glass of some unknown liquid.)
"I've had too much to drink," Ellie joked, raising the cup to Miah. A joke, because these things never seemed like too much as they were happening. "Santé, dearest."