NOTES: Mostly Lizzy's POV, but a little bit at the end is Darcy's. Next one, they'll meet up and talk. Will post again very soon! Stay strong, y'all ~Vinny
"Hey! There you are. Come with me."
Lizzy twisted, confused and panicked, to see who exactly had just grabbed her arm away from Fitzwilliam. She sagged in relief when she saw that it was NOT a bloodthirsty murderer, a half-lizard half-shark beast, or her 5th grade track teacher who gave off really weird vibes, but, in fact, a harmless dude with a round face and fluffy pale hair.
"Oh. Hi, Blondie."
"Yeah, so, Liz," Blondie said, guiding her to a desolate corner of the dance floor, "I saw Darcy being.., well, his normal self, and I figured you could use a mentor for the ways of the business world."
He said that last part with over-exaggerated jazz hands. It was almost enough to make Lizzy smile. Almost.
Instead, though, she just rubbed the outsides of her arms and looked around for Fitzwilliam, missing his presence.
"So… is.. everyone here awful?" Lizzy asked.
"No, not everyone," Blondie replied, tilting his head as if considering a deep philosophical question. "I'm not. Or, well, at least, I hope I'm not."
"No, no, you're fine. Just…" she trailed off. "It feels like no one here is.. here to… make friends? I guess? They all just seem really…. self-serving."
Blondie clicked his hands into finger guns. "Exactly! You've cracked the case. No one here cares about ANYONE else. Except us, I mean."
"There must be someone here who's decent," Lizzy said, feeling rather alone.
"Well, if there is, I haven't met them yet." He gestured for a waiter to come over. "Yo! Dude! Know how to make a martini?"
The waiter, a scrawny man with clipped hair and a nervous twitch in his eye, stopped, and glanced at Blondie fearfully. "Um, y-yes sir."
"And how much do I have to pay you to make one," Blondie asked, taking out his wallet.
Lizzy shoved her companion, rolling her eyes. "I'm so sorry sir. My friend here probably forgot you actually have a JOB and it's not to cater to his every whim."
"Actually," the man said with a half smile, "That kind of is my job."
"Oh." Lizzy stopped. "Well, uh, if you're not too busy, could I have a martini as well?"
He blinked. Then inclined his head. "Of course, miss. Thank you for asking."
"No problem." She sighed, and sat down heavily at the bar. "So is this how you make it through these kinds of events? Alcohol?"
"Copious amounts of it, yes," Blondie answered, sitting down with her.
As the waiter poured them their drinks, Lizzy rested her head on her arm. Blondie was downing his martini with gusto. But she didn't feel like getting drunk tonight.
"Hey. What's your name?" She asked the waiter.
"Hazeem, miss," he said with a smile.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Lizzy."
They shook hands. She halfway chuckled. "You know, you're the first person at this party who ACTUALLY shook my hand without looking at me like a creep."
"Yeah, the regulars here are.. not the nicest people," Hazeem laughed.
"You can say that again." Lizzy took a sip of the martini. It was good. She took another. "So why do you work here?"
"Good pay," he shrugged. "Nice benefits too. Dental. Plus, I can tell my folks I work in a place like this, and they're impressed— even if I'm just a waiter."
"I understand that. I work at a coffee shop, a few miles away."
"Really?" Hazeem frowned. "I thought you were the young lady who published book reviews."
She arched her eyebrows. "You heard that? Goddamn, news travels fast 'round here."
He laughed. "Only with newcomers. So, which one is it? Books or coffee?"
"Kind of both?" Lizzy said, pushing back a little from the bar. "I publish reviews as a kind of side-project; my boyfriend talked over me when I was asked what my work was. I dunno why."
"People here don't like to admit they mingle with us working class," Hazeem said, raising a shoulder. "Don't blame the boyfriend. He was probably just embarrassed."
"Mmm," she answered, taking another drink.
Was Fitzwilliam embarrassed? Of what? The fact that she was a barista? Why would that matter to him? Did it… did it matter to him?
"Waiter!Waiter! Over here! Pardon me, there's some spilled champagne over here, and we need it to be cleaned, please! Now, please!"
Lizzy glanced over her shoulder to see which of the snobs was yelling, and who they were yelling at, but Hazeem just sighed, and walked around the bar.
"Duty calls," he said, flashing her an ironic grin.
"Do they.. do they all treat you like that?" Lizzy asked, feeling concerned.
"Not all. You don't," Hazeem replied. Then, catching sight of the look on her face, he awkwardly patted her arm. "Oh, don't worry. It's just how these people are. You get used to being inferior."
Before Lizzy could formulate a response, Hazeem had disappeared back into the crowd. She took another drink. Was this really who Fitzwilliam worked with? No wonder he had seemed so snobby and cold when they first met.
Actually… come to think of it… just tonight, he had seemed that way too… And Blondie had said, he was just being 'normal' again. Was.. THIS normal for him? Was the person he was with her the exception, and not the other way around? Lizzy thought she knew him, but…
No. She got up from the bar. This train of thought was useless. She knew FItzwilliam. She did! He was kind, and sweet, and funny, and the person he was around these people meant nothing. Nothing!
Saying a quick goodbye to Blondie (who had found a jar of olives and was now gorging himself like it was New Year's Eve), Lizzy headed off through the crowd of people. She needed to find her sweet, awkward, silly boyfriend.
Lizzy just hoped she could find him again.
Darcy was quick to regain his senses. He stepped back up to a wall, and her hands fell away as his arms crossed against his chest. "What do you want, Caroline?"
The unnaturally skinny woman blinked, then her face rearranged itself into a smile. "Darcy, you know how you and I have always been close—"
"Caroline."
"It's about Charlie," she said, her character breaking into frantic worry. "You need to help him!"
"What happened?" Darcy asked. "He— He would have called me if something happened, right?"
"Well, yes, if he was AWARE of it, he would."
Darcy raised his eyebrows. If Caroline was capable of human emotion, she would have fidgeted.
"It's that girl!" She blurted out, unable to take the silence. "He— He's ignoring my advice, and actually marrying her!"
"Yes," he said. "He asked me to be his best man."
Caroline's tiny lipstick-stained mouth opened, but no words came out. Darcy luxuriated in the blissful silence.
"But she's POOR!"
Aaaand it was over.
Darcy sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It doesn't MATTER if she's poor, or rich, or skinny, or pretty— it only matters if she loves him back!"
"But how will we know," Caroline whined. "She could just be lying for his money!"
"Caroline," he said, backing away, "I know people can lie about being in love, but we have to trust Charlie's judgement. Okay? Now, if you'll excuse me…"
He fled into the crowd. As much as he hated large groups of people, he hated small groups of Caroline Bingley more.
The woman huffed, baring her bleached white fangs. This was not going according to plan. Oh well. She consoled herself quietly, that at least everything else was going right. She was feeding the rumors, agitating both parties, and, if everything went well… by the end of the night Fitzwilliam Darcy could be single once more.
And that slut Lizzy Bennet would never stand in her way again.