It was glorious! Elliot was bathed in the pink light of the city and quite pleased for it. Someone had ordered the entirety of the menu at Last Light but, they’d moved onwards to a second bar. Well, to a party that had no finish time. Everyone who was anyone, was here. Elliot no stranger to drama and attention had arrived in style in someone else’s sports car. Really the entire ordeal had been quite uncomfortable but there was nothing like doing stardust off of a stranger’s thigh. Everything in the velvet rope was quite surreal, as if the walls had popped out of their confines to personally greet Elliot with a thick but soft hand. He grinned, sashayed through the throng of familiar faces and, creatures, people with two heads or scales in place of skin. Elliot was quite certain he saw the christian ideal of Jesus in there somewhere. The party was thriving and Elliot, well, he found himself a quiet corner to sink into until the sweet calm hit him. It took an hour, or two, but some pretty young thing came to talk to him. Gushing about a movie he’d been in recently. What movie was that? She didn’t seem to hear him and carried on talking without pausing for air.
Elliot managed to find steady enough feet to traipse across the lounge to the bar, there leant against it with a devilish smile was a familiar face, Dante fucking Reid. They laughed in sync and Elliot lurched forwards to wrap his arms around him. Dante was nowhere near as far gone as him. “Have you seen the girls?” Elliot blurted, the words slurring together as swayed, one hand on Dante the other on the bar. His friend shook his head and urged a glass of water in Elliot’s direction. “No!” The night was still young, Elliot had no intention of slowing down just yet. Although truth be told after he parted ways with Dante he did think about finding a private room to have a nap in but somewhere along the way he got caught by someone else, and then someone else again. Everyone it seemed was out tonight. Everyone wanted Elliot with his endless credits or pocket full of goodies.
In the end, he found a private balcony that overlooked the city for a brief moment alone. A synth had followed him out with a bucket of champagne and canapés. It now stood as quiet as death in the corner. Elliot had managed to pick a little bit at the food but everything swirled, violently, in his vision mostly. He was half afraid that if he let go of the railing that he’d simply fall straight from the skyscraper down to a gloomy doom on the walkway below. The door behind him slid open Elliot gasped, and turned around in slow motion. “Excuse me,” he slurred. “Come to steal my canapés?”