Archie stood half-hidden behind a tall decorative pillar near the edge of the lobby, where the lights softened and the noise thinned just enough for him to breathe. The music drifted lazily above the crowd, smooth and expensive, the kind that never demanded attention but still reminded everyone where they were. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, their reflections breaking apart in the polished marble floor. Every laugh here sounded confident. Every step felt rehearsed.
He rolled the stem of his wineglass between his fingers, slow and restless. The deep red liquid swirled obediently with the motion, climbing the sides of the glass before sliding back down. He watched it like it might give him answers. He never brought the glass to his lips. He was already on edge enough. One little misstep and Archie was sure he would make a fool out of himself. The alcohol could not boost his courage without dulling his sharpness. And tonight he needed every bit of his concentration.
