oh my god i actually quickly updated this time. thanks for the reviews btw :) i can't reply to the guest reviews but i really do appreciate it!

Note: Just in case this causes any confusion, this chapter is NOT in Elsie's POV and is set outside the institution.

"Another round!"

"AYE!"

The pub is lively, the buzz of the Saturday afternoon really starting to reach its peak, and the sound of mugs of beer clinking together is evident across the room. A barmaid hurriedly prepares another round of drinks as we sit around the table, cards in hand and empty pints next to us. It's not really a good time to be drinking, but I can't possibly turn down an invitation for drinks. I'm going to need it for tonight, anyway - some stupid formal party with ballgowns and suits and waltzing and all. It's the kind of party I don't really have a choice in attending, so I have to. It's nice to enjoy some final hours having fun before I'm thrown into hell.

The cards are shuffled and re-distributed just as the barmaid arrives at our table. As she turns to leave again, the man sitting opposite me reaches his hand out and slaps her on the butt, something a lot of men around these places do. She jumps slightly then hurries off, her fringe falling in front of her eyes and closing her off from the rest of the room. I'm not really fond of the way they treat barmaids in these towns, but there's nothing I can do about it. It's none of my business, anyway. If you're gonna sign up for that job, you're signing up for harassment and poor treatment. They don't put it in the job adverts, but everyone knows that's what really happens, and if she's stupid enough not to realise it, then who am I to care if she gets hit?

That's the kind of thing I'm conditioned into thinking, having lived here my whole life. I know there are people suffering out there, people from the more unfortunate nationalities who are locked within that massive camp, but we don't really talk about the camp here. We just play card games, attend parties, drink and enjoy life. I'm seventeen years old, which means I'm on the younger side of this group, but I can still do the same things as them. Half of these men are married, the other half are either young like me, engaged, or such alcoholics or drunken fools that no girl wants to go near them. They're still good fun, though, and when you get on their good side that's a good way to ensure yourself at least a few rounds of free drinks.

"Ready for the party then?" the man next to me asks, nudging me and raising his eyebrows. "I heard that, uh, what's her name...Katyusha would be there. Yanno, the one with the big-"

"Yeah, I know who you're talkin' about." I grin. "I ain't really lookin' forward to the party, to be honest. I'd prefer stayin' here and drinkin' throughout the night, but...well, I don't really get a choice in the matter, do I?"

He chuckles. "Them boys were in here again a couple days ago. Ya know, the ones that call 'emselves the 'Bad Touch Trio'. Bunch of troublemakers, they are. Smashed three bottles and the barmaid got soaked. Eventually her husband, the big scary guy, came and threw 'em out. Doubt they'll be returnin' for a while."

"How old are they?"

"Sixteen, I think. Fresh outta school. Somethin' tells me they failed most their exams."

"So, where they from?"

"One's from Spain, one's from that old place called Prussia or whatever, and the other's French. Real good cook, he is. If he weren't such a hooligan, he'd probably land a pretty decent-payin' job in a restaurant."

"Damn. Tha's a shame." I turn back to the cards. "You got plans for the party?"

"Eh, not really. Gonna try and get a lil' closer to Katyusha, but her creepy sister is probably gonna be there too. I don't wanna be in the wrong with her, that'd end the night with a bloody train wreck."

"Yeah. I've never really gotten what her deal is."

"She's the younger sister. Of him."

"Ohh."

"Yeah. She be completely dedicated to 'im as well. Wants t'marry him and all. Doubt he wants that, but she's scary as fuck. I wouldn't mess with that chick if my life depended on it."

"Yeah...hey, how's Roderich holdin' up?"

"Oh, him? He's married now. Him and that Elizaveta sealed the deal last week. Surprised you weren't invited to the weddin'."

"Yeah, I don't think he's that interested in being friends with me anymore. Dunno what happened, though. One minute he was all fine, next he barely spoke to me no more. Guess somethin' must've happened with Elizaveta. She's never liked me, either."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

The conversation ends there as we start to play another game of cards. The barmaid serves one more round before we head out, that man groping the barmaid one more time before we leave. On the way out, we run into a group of three kids. One's pretty short, with silver hair and strange red eyes. There's one with blonde hair which seems to be very well groomed, tied back into a ponytail with some hair left out at the front on either side, and the third is slightly tanned with brown hair and green eyes. The one in the middle and the blonde one is smirking, the other guy is just smiling. He doesn't look like he belongs with the other two, but there's no doubt that it's the so-called 'Bad Touch Trio'.

"Guten tag, bitches," the albino says, waving his hand at us. "Bet you thought you'd never see us again."

The blonde one lets out a strange laugh that sounds like "onhonhonhon~". Clearly that's the Frenchman.

"Hola, mi amigos!" The other one waves. Spanish. "Sorry to interrupt," he adds quickly.

"Ah, damnit, what do you kiddies want?" one of the men grunts. "Ya should run along, this place ain't for minors."

The albino laughs. "Don't be so lame! You're like my bruder. We just came here to have a good time."

"Yeah? Well, you ain't gonna be havin' a good time when I pound the shit outta your freaky albino face!"

"Oh, mon dieu, why can't you all be a bit more civilised?" the Frenchman says, sighing. "There are better ways to fix these things than fighting, mon cher." He smirks at the angry man. "Am I wrong?"

The man looks like he's about to explode. His face is red with anger and his eyes have a murderous look about them. "Your accent irritates me," he growls. "Don't speak that foul language."

"Calm down, amigo! We really do not mean any harm here. We just came for a few drinks!" The Spanish man laughs. He seems to be cheerful even when this man has proven he's ready to fight.

"Fine," he spits. "But the next time I see you in here, I won't hesitate to strangle you." He glares. "You better respect your elders, kids."

We leave, and I gaze in interest at the three boys. They walk past me and straight into the bar, and I can hear cheering from inside as they begin to cause a rampage in the pub. The barmaid shrieks and I decide to walk away. I don't wanna get mixed in with that kind of crowd, the delinquent teenagers who think they can cause trouble everywhere they go. I have a party to get ready for. I part ways with the rest of the gang, and head back to my house. There, I spend a bit of time sobering up after the drinks before I get ready. The party is at six o'clock, and it's currently nearly five. I have roughly thirty minutes to get ready, seeing as I need to travel to the location.

First I wash, then I get into the ridiculously classy suit my mother sent me in a package the other day, and style my hair. My hair's always been quite difficult to style, with its...spikiness. Not really sure how else to describe it. But I'm used to it now, so I style it as usual and then put on my tie and head out for the party.

At the entrance, there's already a line of people. Men dressed in suits like mine, and women with classy and elegant dresses. It's nothing out of the ordinary, just another formal party. I can see the famous Natalia and Katyusha at the entrance, with champagne glasses, Natalia's expression one of murderous rage as she glares directly at some woman, who was probably flirting with her brother. Katyusha is trying to calm her down, and that results in the champagne glass being knocked to the ground and smashing. A few heads turn, but they're mostly used to it by now.

When I reach the entrance, there's a woman with a checklist who questions who I am.

"Your name, please?"

I clear my throat. "I should be towards the top of the list...Mathias Køhler?"

She looks towards the top of the list and nods, beckoning towards the entrance. "You may proceed."

I step into the life of the party and breathe in. This is gonna be one hell of a long night.

whee, denmark! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!