It took me an hour to get myself together and then choose the perfect I'm-not-going-to-enjoy-this outfit - an all-black ensemble of skinny jeans, black tee and Doc Martens.
In Hell I managed to largely stay away from people - they were so clingy and demanding, so selfish and hungry for whatever they thought you could give them. And the people at Daniel's parties were no different. They thought they were living, but they were on a one-way train to Hell. No transfers. No connections. No redemptions.
I plucked a canapé from the tray of a passing waitress and caught Daniel's eyes from across the lawn. The corner of his lips tugged downward and his expression darkened. Apparently he didn't approve of my outfit. I heard the whisper of his thoughts skirting the edge of my awareness - “After al
