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Celebration Time
#31
The girl was entertaining, in a flighty and naive sort of way. Unlike most of the men in the room, he polished his own shoes, meaning he was well aware how hard it would be to repair all the scuffs and marks she had left on them. But as annoying that might have been, the looks she got was worth the trouble.

And then she was gone; a quick flutter of activity, and he let her dart from the dance floor with a faint grin before he simply returned to his own drink. Leaning against the wall once more, he surveyed the room, noting absently how various social groups had changed over the short time. His employer of the evening hadn't journeyed far; a few new faces around her, but over all she was content to be a center of attention, drawing people to her. She was learning how to control a room, it seemed.

Their host, the 'musician', had abandoned his couch to start wandering the room. To most, surely the activities of a good host surveying his guests and gracing them with his presence. But the man seemed to show little interest in stopping to chat, quickly excusing himself from whatever group of sycophants stopped him, and seemed far too intent on searching through the crowd; a level of seriousness White would not have expected of some pansy-ass'd hippy entertainer.

So just what was the man searching for? His gaze swept to his employer a moment, re-assessing the crowd she stood with and dismissing the lot of them. The other 'body guards' in the room, all more interested in one-upping each other's stories and comparing penis size. Little miss legs, the scientist, had wandered to the bar and had fallen prey to the well-dressed weasel, at least for the moment.

A sip of whiskey, and he poured the last of the bottle into the glass. It had been near empty when he'd taken it from the bar, after all, although to most whom had noticed surely would have thought him three sheets to the wind.
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#32
Dane pulled Danika into his arms, only to push her a few inches away as her body pressed close to his. He touched her with the tips of his fingers, grazing her shoulders and turning her this way and that. He was a smooth, confident dancer, but his movements were precise and calculated. Dancing was not natural to him, but neither was he uncomfortable. Danika was pretty, he supposed. She had big eyes and plump lips, but those features were not what he found most attractive. It was her pale skin and short, dark hair that drew him. As they danced, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. The scent turned his stomach a little, but alcohol had its uses, and he did not shy away.

He flicked gazes around them to gauge how others watched. Soon, he began to realize that the eyes connecting to them were not focused on him at all, but instead upon Danika. Frequently, those same eyes connected invisible lines to another man in the room. Dane sought him out, and found a predatory gaze watching. He smiled charmingly at the man, a smile that faded when he realized the man dismissed them completely.

Irritation roiled in his gut to the point that he almost forgot about Danika. He did not like being dismissed, and eventually he simply walked away from the dance floor and the young woman that occupied it.

He angled through the crowd toward the man that stole the attention that should have been his. But when he was close enough to look the man in the eye, his jaw tightened. He reached for the power but it slipped away like water through his fingers. It didn't matter, he mused and turned away.

Having lost the desire to dance, flirt, drink or fight, he grabbed his things and left.
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