Ella shifted awkwardly in the plastic chair, the cold night air making goosebumps pop up on her bare legs. She rubbed her equally-cold hands furiously on her legs, hoping some friction would help her situation. "Not even that bad, huh? I can see that." The brunette paused, thinking. "I would start smoking, but they kill you so slowly. I'll prefer a faster way out." A few moments passed before she figured out the gravity of what she had just said, and she backtracked.

"Not that I'm a suicidal whiner or anything, I guess. I mean, nothing special ever goes on in life, but I'm a little freaked out with what comes after. You know, the whole oblivion deal." Suddenly, Ella wondered why she was being so talkative with a passive-aggressive jerk who had nearly run her over not a day earlier.

Definitely the secondhand pot talking. She was never this deep. Not even with herself.

Another crash resounded through the house, this time with a few angry shouts. Some glass broke, some whoops and cheers to fight came next. Things were getting heated, and Ella was suddenly even more intrigued with the glassy pool and the pinprick stars.

"I suppose they will be needing a good architect after this party."