ONG’S INAUGURAL BALL — QUINN ONG’S OPEN STARTER
usually quinn is the type of person whose in line first to any kind of party she can get her hands on – yet when they told her about this one she imagined something way different. gone were the ideas of pounding back shots until she forgot her name or the loud, blaring bass that shook her bones and mimicked the rhythm of her heart. in it’s place were men and women talking daintily over the rims of champagne glasses and hidden behind their masks that never really concealed their identities….a perfect ball, a perfect party.
certainly not something that she wanted to be apart of.
yet they had barred her exits and every time she thoughts he might sneak away they were there and tutting after her – the queen, the woman of the hour cannot simply slip away into the darkness to drown her sorrows in martini glasses and jack and cokes. it’s been at least a couple of hours and a littering of empty glasses along the hall are the only indication that the queen has been drinking more than her fair share so far.
not that anyone can find her.
she may not be able to escape the castle but she’s finally been able to tuck away into the corner of one of the balconies and she’s sure that the wind is whispering it’s agreement in her choice. a cigarette in one hand and a half drunken glass in the other, hanging loosely between her fingertips and she’s finally been caught. she doesn’t even spare them a look before she’s taking a long drag and finally glancing over her shoulder, holding a single finger up to perfect ruby red lips. ❛ shhh, don’t tell them you found me. ❜
The King and Queen of the night, brother and sister, party-holics. They should have been enjoying the night, but nevertheless, they weren’t. How could Ash enjoy the night? This was not a party. This was a ball. And he hated it. Whoever planned it, he hated it. And just as his sister, everyone was barring the exits, keeping him from leaving.
Finally, after dismissing himself to the bathroom (surely no one could follow him there) he hurried away, to his room, wanting to lock himself away and drown in the whiskey he hid under his bed. It was all he had. He didn’t dare sneak to the kitchen for some beers.
He halted whenever he glimpsed a figure on the balcony, noting right away just who it was-- his sister. The lady of the night. He ‘tsked’ crossing his arms as he approached. “I won’t, if you give me a cigarette. They took away mine,” he sighed, leaning against the railing once he had gotten closer. He grinned to his sister. “Looks like we’re trying to both escape.”
