I walked out of the VIP section like someone escaping prison.
I did not run.
Running meant fear.
I was not scared.
I was deeply uncomfortable.
Very different.
I marched through the crowd trying to find Emerson.
The music was too loud.
The lights were annoying.
People were dancing like rent was cancelled.
I pushed through the crowd.
No Emmy.
I frowned.
That stupid man.
Who drags strangers into VIP rooms??
And who sits people on their laps??
And who
No.
Not thinking about it.
I finally reached the next room.
The guard standing outside looked at me and immediately opened the door.
Suspicious.
Inside
I froze.
Emerson was lying on a giant couch.
One shoe missing.
Eating fruit.
Drinking something pink.
She looked at me.
I looked at her.
She slowly lowered the drink.
