Loralie bites a cherry off the stem as she watches the guests party recklessly. She doesn't normally host parties, but it was on a dare. Yes, yes. A dare. How cliché.

Her gaze rakes over the people, searching for you. You'd been invited, and she'd greeted you at the door, but she hadn't seen you for the past two hours.

A sigh leaves her. Perhaps you didn't want to be here and left early. How would she know?

She bites another cherry, throwing away both stems as she turns and makes her way up the stairs.