swing the focus | calus & karlena
Karlena lost track of time. Actually, she lost track of everything due to the pounds and pounds of alcohol currently coursing through her veins. All she was fully aware of was the fact some guy had been hanging around her the whole night, giving her shot after shot, drink after drink, etc. Which she wasn’t protesting to, honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact it was the first drinking binge she’d had in the last forty years. Due to that, her tipsiness arrived eons faster than back in the sixties, and she could hardly concentrate on anything with her vision blurring and head spinning. She somehow managed to operate her cellphone well enough to text, having two ( what she thought at the time ) wonderful conversations with both Larkin and Ten. Little did she know that she was probably going to be cursing herself come morning when she’s suffering from a raging hangover—fuck, she was really going to regret complimenting Ten, too.
Though, she guessed he was her savior in a way when he offered to come pick her mess of a self up. It took a while for her to stumble out the front door and into the brisk night air, thanks to the random guy that refused to stop clinging onto her until the last second—she maintained her nice outer face, though, by handing him her phone number when he so kindly asked ( albeit, a fake phone number, but it was still one, nonetheless. ) As she waited outside on the sidewalk for Ten, she could just tell her intoxication wasn’t fading anytime soon. Her mood was still skyrocketing through the roof, causing her to loudly speak to every passerby that walked her way. Laughs, catcalls, and all of the sort were sent her way in response—something she wasn’t not used to already by this point.
It didn’t take her more than five minutes to haphazardly grow impatient, though, so she clumsily fished out her cellphone out of her purse and messily dialed Ten’s number. Placing the device up to her ear, she glanced around her at the city streets—they were still busy, even in the dead of night. New York sure was peculiar.