[center]Yvette soon arrived inside, where the the sound nearly smacked her in the face, and the thrash of people pushed her right away. She squealed as she ducked under a flailed, drunken arm. She got bumped by another, and nearly landed on her face. She soon found herself pushing out of a thrash of people and seeking refuge at the bar. She was quickly stopped, though. "Hey, pretty," Came a slurred voice, behind a thick stench of liquor breathe. She groaned again and shoved passed him, nearly tripping as she landed at a bar stool. [i]My God, this is crazier than I expected![/i] She thought in exasperation. She hadn't taken into consideration that she was a very small girl, exceedingly short for her age. She tried to hide her embarrassment as the bartender stifled his laughter at her expense.
"I'd like a Screwdriver, please." She said, trying to come off cooly so he'd stop smirking. She groaned and held her head; maybe this wasn't such a good idea. She'd never been to a club, she'd never fit into this scene. What made her think she could now? Just because she'd had a few trials these last few weeks? It didn't make you a different person, it just... happened.[/center]