Ella walked in, indeed fashionably late, and scanned the room for Chelsea. She nervously bit her lower lip when she didn't see her right away. What if she gave up on me and left? Serves you right...you really didn't have to fix your hair for the millionth time. She already likes you, you don't have to work so hard to impress her. Sometimes Ella just hated that little inner voice.
Trying to ignore the voice, Ella smoothed a hand down her lavender dress. It is all chiffon and flowey with a drop waist. It wasn't vintage 20's - but more of an interpretation of the 20's. More importantly, she looked damn good in it and she knew it.
Ella decided to go to the bar and hope Chelsea came. She maneuvered her way through the crowd and ordered a sour apple martini. She leaned back against the bar and sipped it slowly, gazing around the room.