they had arrived in monte carlo, stepped into the casino and felt immediately unsettled by the amount of excess, gambling. even vanamo, he had been gratified to learn, with her larger budget these days, hadn’t been able to stomach it for long, so they’d promptly decided to explore, after he’d swiped a bottle of champagne and two flutes. they’d seen the paintings, the grounds, walked hand in hand past landmarks. it felt good, like a date.
returning for the fireworks on the other hand, now feels like they are walking into another dimension. elias’s frown is slow as the speed in which they walk slows to a stop. “ uh... ” spilled champagne. a lot of spilled champagne, they had just passed people in the fountain. so many discarded shot glasses. so many. he turns, sees a very strange pair kissing the czar on the cheek one after the other for photos, his finger raises in the direction, “ did you j — ” he turns towards vanamo, catches sight of a man — is that petro soletsky? the ukrainian, kneeling? “ a proposal? ” oh. not a proposal. “ i feel like we walked into the wrong building. it’s not me is it? this can’t be all me. ” [ @vanamc ]