“And that’s why the entire concept of societies is just completely white, patriarchial, classicist bullshit–,” Ines gestured wildly around her, trying to talk sense into a pretentious Hastings boy who wasn’t even listening to her, only entertaining her as he tried to forcibly shove another drink into her hands. She’d already had a single vodka lemonade, and that was enough to make her feel her favorite type of tipsy. That is, just inebriated enough that the volume of her voice raised by degree with each word, but still alert enough to know when the neanderthal in front of her began to lower his distance to her cleavage. Just then, someone brushed passed her shoulder, and she used the opportunity to get away from the man in front of her. Giving the dumbass a quick thumbs up– “You know what, never mind!”– she hurried behind the stranger. Only upon getting closer did she release it was not, in fact, a stranger. Ines began to wave her hands wildly in the air to catch his attention amid the crowd. “Hey! Heyy– RHYS!” she caught her breath, finally close enough to push herself onto her tippy toes and tap his shoulder until she had his attention. “I fucking hate it here, these people are demented.” She narrowed her eyes at him, attempting to focus her vision in the dark atmosphere of Hastings, no light but the soft flicker of candles. “That guy--” she jammed her thumb in the air behind her. “Called me Juliet. Do I look like I’m dressed as Juliet?” @wickde
