Emily wasn’t sure if she would attend the masquerade ball at first, considering parties weren’t really her thing. She looked for an excuse to not go, and she couldn’t use work for once because she actually had the night off (even though she was technically supposed to be on maternity leave but decided against it for a few more weeks). After convincing from Scarlett, she finally decided to go and wore the dress she had bought for her. “You promise I’m not cramping your style, right? I can’t drink and I’ll probably be ready to leave by ten o’clock,” Emily said, letting out a laugh. “You look amazing, by the way. That dress is gorgeous.”
“Babe, the only way you’d cramp my style is if you didn’t come with me. You’re fucking 100% better than 80% of the people in this very room.” Including Darcy who--while she sent him a suit for the ball--she was still very upset with. She flipped her hair over her shoulder before looking down at her dress again. Black is better suited for you and your wide hips, Scarlett Marina, she could hear her mother say. “Don’t you think so? I figured instead of looking like a princess, I’m better suited for the Wicked Witch,” she joked, chuckling. “But you, sweetie--you’re beautiful. You look like Goddess of the Earth or some shit like that, and you’re not even showing that much cleavage. Kinda proud of you for making it out tonight.”