Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Chapter 22 - "Did you just say swanky?"

"What is this?" Cece asked, again.

"What normal people do, or not, I have no clue," Elliot said. "The last themed birthday we had was your eighth birthday. We all just wore some assortment of hats and drank tea like crazy people."

"And it was the most legendary Mad-Hatter party there was."

"So I guess this is what people do when they have things like...ummm what are those things we really don't have a lot of and you blame all your problems on?"

"Alpacas?"

"No, the other things."

Cece nodded in understanding.

"Friends."

"Right, I guess this is a normal occurrence if you have those."

They stared at the constantly morphing crowd, people breaking from groups and forming new ones, while others disappeared in search of drinks. Cece turned to Elliot.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" she asked.

"Besides people doing a poor job of staying within the boundaries of the time period dress code? I don't know."

"I agree, stilettos were not invented then. It's really a lack of research on the girls' part. But that's not what I mean. Look."

Elliot glanced around and her eyes widened.

"Oh no. How did this happen?"

"Not everyone knows. Soso is obviously ignorant to this fact."

"We should go find Milo, this is definitely not his type of party," Elliot said.

"Right, he could be hiding in a closet waiting for us to rescue him. Poor guy. Let's go."

They left the entryway and cut their way through the thick throng of party goers. Music pounded through the room, seeming to send every nerve pulsing with the rhythm of the heavy beat. Elliot pushed herself closer to Cece and raised her voice.

"Ten bucks says he has found a corner and is waiting for us there," she said.

"I say balcony," Cece said. "Let's split up and look for him. I'll meet you at the bar in twenty, whether we have found him or not."

Elliot nodded and they separated in opposite directions. Elliot nudged her way though the living room, searching for Milo. When her surveying of every corner, hidden alcove and closet produced no result, she climbed the three steps to the bar.

A bartender gracefully moved along the length of the counter mixing drinks and handing out flirty smiles. Elliot gave the room another glance then sat down on one of the stools. The line for drinks hit a lull and the bartender walked over to Elliot, a smile at the ready.

"What can I get for you?" he asked.

Elliot leaned on the counter.

"How about a Tomorrow's Promise, hold the gin?" she said.

The bartender's smile faltered and a crease appeared between his eyebrows. Elliot made a face.

"You don't know that one?" she said. "It's fine, it's kind of obscure. How about a Footprints in the Sand?"

The bartender's smile widened, but the puzzled crease still remained. Elliot waved her hands.

"Sorry, they only serve that in Norway. Okay, I'll just go with a classic an Evening's Shadow."

"Of course," the guy said, uncertainty in every syllable.

He grabbed a glass, but looked at Elliot before making another move.