Re: The Bar
Wren wasn't going to go, not originally, but Hal was in a mood, and she decided getting out might be just the thing. She had dressed in something pink, old and lacy, and she'd walked most of the way, only taking a cab when the cold had gotten to be too much for her.
She wasn't really expecting to recognize anyone there. Neither Luke or Quinn had mentioned going, and it was out of the way and not a place her friends went (to her knowledge). She expected a night of anonymity, maybe a few dances and enough drinks to make her feel warm. She wanted that sort of not-thinking. The kidnapping had turned her into a mess of confused feelings that she just couldn't push aside, and she didn't know what to do with them. Tonight, she wanted strangers and forgetting.
The tent made her smile as she neared it, bright and colorful and almost gaudy. The music that reached her ears was old and smooth; the kind her mother liked, and she stepped into the entrance and looked around.
She walked straight to the bar, stretching up and leaning up on tiptoes to order a Lemon Drop, and she noticed the man beside her as she rocked back onto her heels. She glanced from his drink to his face, and then she took the drink between her fingers and divested him of it.