As the chaos of the night finally dwindled, the partygoers began to stagger their way to the exit, each more hilariously drunk than the last. Lorenzo was being half-dragged by Marisol, muttering something about "casting a bottle of wine as the lead in his next project," while Helena clung to Felix, loudly insisting he design her an outfit that could double as "a battle cape for karaoke warfare."
Elara, the only sober one left, had her hands full trying to manage a very unsteady Amara.
"I don't need help," Amara declared as Elara guided her toward the door. "I'm graceful. Like a—like a swan."
"Sure you are," Elara said dryly, catching her just as she tripped over absolutely nothing.
Amara pointed accusingly at the floor. "This carpet is conspiring against me. Who installed it? Eirik? I knew it."
