POV: Florence
The line outside the club wrapped around the corner like a designer belt cinching the city block. Bodies pressed together in a mass of desperation and fake IDs. My spirits tanked the second I spotted it. Two girls stumbled past us on their way out. One bent over near a tree, losing what had probably been a very expensive dinner while her friend held her hair back with the practiced ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times before.
"Lottie." I grabbed her arm, feeling the cool silk of her dress beneath my fingers. "I am not standing in that mess. Let's just go somewhere else."
She looked at me as if I'd suggested we go home and organize my closet.
"Relax." She smoothed her dress down with both hands, her confidence radiating like heat off Manhattan pavement in August
