“God,” Lana huffed out dramatically, flapping feebly at her cheeks with an open palm. In the midst of the snowflake spangled ballroom, she stuck out from the crowd like a sore thumb. A dash of scarlet red on an otherwise pale page, she was currently stood waiting by the bar for the people in front of her to finish ordering. “It’s way too hot in here. I swear a janitor’s tampered with the boiler or something. It’s, like, his evil master plan to get people throwing their tits to the wind and showing more skin. His scheme? Bamboozled.”










