Re: Nic / Lem
Lem had never really been to a large scale social event, except for some concerts. Those had more mosh pits than cocktails though. She hadn’t even gone to a prom, much less something like this. Her first impulse was to find a way to make mischief for all these fancy-ass people, but she didn’t want to embarrass Nic right off the bat or anything. And he’d said his parents were going to be there and everything. “Sure, a drink is a good place to start,” she said, looking up at him with a little smile. Lem squeezed his fingers -- he didn’t look completely comfortable either, and she wanted him to feel like she was there for him, because she was.
Nic didn’t have to ask to know that this wasn’t Lem’s scene. It was barely his, and only because it had been an obligation for so long that he’d learned how to manage it. He always wondered why his parents wanted him at these things. Maybe they hoped it would rub off on him. Just because he didn’t make a point of rebelling the way Zania did didn’t mean he fit in. It was nice to have Lem there with him, someone who got him so much more than anyone else in that room ever would, and he smiled back at her before leading her towards the bar. “You look incredible,” he said softly as they walked. “Where did you find that dress?” Even if he didn’t do a lot of dress shopping, or any for that matter, Nic knew it didn’t look like something off the rack of a little shop in Point Pleasant.
The compliment made Lem beam, especially since it wasn’t exactly a fancy evening gown. At least not from this decade. Even if money wasn’t a factor, Lem wouldn’t have been caught dead in Prada or Gucci or whatever else overpriced bullshit was floating around in that room. Not unless she was destroying it, at least. But if Nic liked how she looked, that made her feel like she was on a red carpet. “Thrift store in Bangor,” she said, grinning up at him. “It was baby blue when it started, but we fixed that!” They reached the bar, and that was an environment that Lem felt like she knew well, so she pushed through a couple of layers of people just hanging out and got the server’s attention. Nobody looked thrilled with that, but Lem didn’t even notice. “Rum and coke,” she ordered, then looked around at Nic with an arched eyebrow.
Nic could care less about brand names. He knew a few, it was hard not to when they were shoved in your face via the media, but he honestly thought that what mattered most was comfort. That didn’t mean he wanted to wear pajamas everywhere, but he wanted to be comfortable in what he was in. Like a second skin. If that came from a thrift store he could care less. He grinned a little to himself as she pushed through the crowd to make her way to the bar, following behind in her wake. Really, they’d all do the same. They just didn’t like the younger generation stepping in front of them. “Old fashioned,” he said, since she had the bartender’s attention. He’d have ordered for her, but had no problem with her taking the lead.
It didn’t even occur to Lem to defer to Nic ordering her drink for her, because how would he know what she wanted? She wasn’t exactly demure. The wait wasn’t long, thankfully, and once they had their drinks in one hand, Lem took hold of Nic’s other one as they moved away from the bar again. She took a sip from her glance and hummed an approving sound. “At least it’s not watered down,” Lem said. A lot of bars did that, but this was a fancy-ass country club, they could obviously afford not to. Plus drunk people got more generous, and this was for some kind of charity, right? Lem gravitated toward an area off to the side of the ballroom that wasn’t too crowded, pulling Nic along with her. “I saw Zania! Her dress is so pretty,” she told him on the way, flashing a smile. “Is that guy her boyfriend?”