❝ PICKET FENCE! ❞ → GRAY ✓

→ i.x

Act One, Scene Ten

→ ❝ nope, no gangster here! ❞

             Carol decided that she was going to find Michael, as she missed him and hadn't seen him for the better part of the night. She sorely hoped he didn't still want to dance.

             "Henry?" Carol called as she tried to locate the boy, opening each door individually and peering inside the room. She had made a pit stop in the ballroom and got a waiter to make her a 'cocktail of his choice', and was sipping on it as she wandered in order to keep her strength up, "Henry? Where are you?"

             She couldn't be sure if it was the alcohol making her hear things, but Carol could hear a mumble of conversation was coming from further down the hall, and decided it was a good place to look. Even if it wasn't Michael, they might be able to help her find him.

             Opening the door, the first thing she saw was the petite brunette from the wedding ceremony, the one who kept looking lustfully at Michael. She was the first one to see Carol and, after stopping midway through conversation with her, the man in the chair opposite followed her eyeline to meet Carol (who placed her drink on a cabinet by the door for safekeeping).

             "Carol!" Michael's eyes lit up when he saw her, beckoning her in. Carol took a few steps forwards and perched herself on the arm of his chair as he snaked his arm around her waist.

             "I'm Charlotte Murray," the girl introduced herself and held her hand out for Carol to shake.

             "Carol Goodwin," she hiccupped, not giving the best first impression but deciding that it would do. "Lovely to meet you."

             "How do you know the groom?" Charlotte asked, wiping a little white powder from her nose. She sat back on the chair behind her and crossed one leg over the other, revealing her bare thighs, and batted her lashes in Michael's direction.

             Carol wasn't sure who the question was directed to but answered it regardless. "Well, actually," she smiled sweetly, venom dripping from her sickly tone, "I'm his cousin's fiancé."

             "Oh, really?" Charlotte smiled, mirroring Carol's tone. She wondered if Charlotte thought Carol was inferior, just because of her thick northern accent, while she had the airy and enticing voice of a Londoner, "Now, how on earth did that happen?"

             "She thinks I'm a gangster," Michael cut in with an awkward laugh, noticing the tension rising between the two women, and motioned to Charlotte who masked her sneer with a smile.

             "Nope," Carol shook her head and, for the first time, Michael noticed that her words were slurred slightly. She was drunk, which easily explained her standoffish behaviour, "Nope, no gangster here. Goodbye."

             She took Michael by the hand and led him from the room, leaving Charlotte and her little bottle of cocaine alone in the middle of the floor. Whisking her drink up on the way out, she blew a kiss to Charlotte over her shoulder and ignored Michael telling her to stop being childish.

                As they wandered the corridors, Michael noticed how cold her skin was, and wrapped her up in his jacket, rolling up the sleeves over her wrists. The material swallowed her, but she was comforted by the warm embrace of the smell of cigarettes and Michael's cologne.

             "I'm hungry, Henry," she announced, deciding to sit in the middle of the corridor with her legs crossed like a child.

             Michael sighed and rolled his eyes, hoping he would be able to steer the girl in the direction of jazz music that was floating quietly through the halls, "Are you sure? You don't want to dance?"