The karaoke bar was a glorious, sticky disaster. Flashing neon lights painted the room in garish shades of pink and blue, glinting off half-empty glasses and the sweat-slick faces of tone-deaf patrons screaming into microphones. The air was thick with the smell of cheap beer, desperation, and the lingering ghost of a burnt onion ring.
It was, in Emphera's esteemed opinion, paradise.
"AND IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII…" she bellowed into a half-empty water bottle, one arm slung dramatically around Lena's shoulders, "WILL ALWAYS… LOVE… HIC… YOUUUUUU!"
Lena giggled, swaying so hard she nearly took them both down. She propped her chin on her hand, her vision a pleasant, swimming blur. The tiny paper umbrella in her drink looked like a palm tree on a distant, very wobbly island.
