OPEN STARTER. maxim crane + open. goob lagoon event.
Max was halfway through his third drink and already wondering if the open bar was the only redeeming feature of the evening. Everything glittered under cheap fairy lights and the reflection of too many sequined costumes -- most of which looked like last-minute Spirit Halloween tragedies. He'd seen three sexy mermaids, two Poseidons, and at least one guy who'd just painted himself blue and called it a night. He wasn't judging or anything. He just thought people should try a little harder.
The party had started off fun enough. Music, drinks, the classics, but the moment skeletons appeared and the mayor's heart literally ripped out of his chest, the vibe became thoroughly ruined. And yet, here Max still was, in all his poor life choices and glittering pearls around his neck, because what else was he going to do -- go home?
At this point, he was really only here for two things: the drinks, and whatever (or whoever) would help him end the night without having to think too hard about anything. The problem was that the boredom had begun to gnaw at him. And if there was one truly dangerous thing for Maxim Crane, it was an idle mind. He scanned the crowd, eyes glittering with that sharp recklessness. He tipped back the rest of his drink and swiped one of the half-full bottles of liquor from the bar itself while the bartender wasn't looking before pushing off the bar.
"You know, they could have made the skeletons a little sexier," he complains, looking upon the mess of the stage with little more than distaste. "Do you think if I ask nicely, they'll rip my heart out next?" he asks, faux interest fanning his voice. Then, lifting the open bottle, he mumbles, "Would be far more fun than whatever the fuck is happening now."
