[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180918/49746d4441d6bb4669f2d331fc73a655.png[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/J1vEOwm.png[/img][/center]
[right][hr][color=gray][b]Palm Beach, Florida[/b]
August 17th, 2018[/color][hr][/right]
[indent][i][color=FFB6C1]What the fuck did you just say to me?![/color] [/i]

Mara barely held her composure as she stood at the table as Bea decided to slam the alcoholic drink and stomp off to 'dance'. 

Bea was her best friend and she cared a lot about her well-being, but [i]nobody[/i] talked sternly to her like she had to [i]listen[/i] to them. Her eyes looked longingly at the alcohol next to her for a brief second. Her impulse wasn't to immediately drink but rather grab the bottle and go find Diablo a piece of her mind and maybe smash the empty vodka bottle over the degenerate's skull. Because obviously Bea would never talk to her like that on her own initiative, away from Diablo's alcohol, and away from his deplorable attempts to seduce and take advantage of an autistic girl. She swore to herself that if she saw the “devil” in the flesh, she was going to have some choice words for him.

[color=FFB6C1][i]I'm going to go find the stoners. I need to fucking detox from all of this stupid shit. I'd rather not cause a scene with fuckin' Caligula or whoever just started dancing with Bea. Because right now I really want to punch them in the throat.[/i][/color]

She sighed as she made her way through the crowd. She'd be back in a few minutes. And when Bea was finally ready to leave she would leave. And thank god for that.
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