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The restaurant was lively, the sound of raucous laughter filling the air in the same manner that beer was filling the cups of your colleagues. You sat, gripping your water with tight fingers, feeling lost amidst a sea of people. You did not understand why it was required that you go to these team “happy hours”. The dwarves and elves could really drink, and the lower inhibitions got, the more of an outsider you felt.
The number of times your shoulder had been bumped had to be in triple digits, and not a single person seemed interested in talking to you. You flipped your phone over, marking the time. Maybe it was late enough for you to bow out; this did not have an official end time, after all.
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Reader is gender neutral.
Day Twelve of Thirty One of AUtober: Urban Fantasy
Bookmarked by Purified_Sailor
27 Oct 2022
