Classical music floated through the air as the elevator ascended. Elliot stared at her reflection in the metal doors. She twisted experimentally. The fringe on her silver, short flapper dress danced about her.

"I feel like a chandelier," she said, looking down at the moving layers.

"That's because you look like a chandelier," Cece said, not even looking at Elliot.

She rested against the side of the metal box, her arms crossed, concentrating her, less than contented, expression on the line of numbers. Elliot looked at her sister with a doe-eyed expression. She placed a hand on her heart.

"Awe, that's the nicest thing you have ever said to me."

"Yeah, well don't let it go to your head," Cece said. "You already have too many light bulbs popping up over it with all your ideas, I don't want you turning into a permanent light fixture."

"You have to admit though, it would be convenient if we got stuck in a dark tunnel while escaping the zombie attack."

"There's always Milo, he comes up with enough bright ideas he could light the tunnel."

"Yes, but you forget Milo isn't great under pressure. Could he really come up with enough bright ideas to light a tunnel when we are being chased by a pack of flesh eating zombies?"

"True, I didn't think about that. I guess it's best for you to become the light fixture. Sucks for you, I hear it does terrible things to your figure."

"For our safety it is worth it."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The sound of music, emanating from the furtherest apartment, welcomed them as they stepped off. Cece looked around.

"This is the correct place, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," Elliot said. "Who knew Soso lived in such a swanky place."

Cece looked at her.

"Did you just say swanky?" she asked.

"The dress is getting to me. Let's just move on."

Both girls walked towards the music and rang the bell. Laughter and the sound of voices slipped out into the hallway to entertain them as they waited. The door opened and Soso stood there, her black hair pinned up and wearing a golden flapper dress.

"Hi!" she said. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Yup," Elliot said, "So are we."

Soso stepped back and gestured for them to come in. The large apartment was decorated in gold and black streamers. Matching balloons were bunched together in groups and filled every corner and were wrapped around every pillar. The space was packed with people in various stages of 1920's customs. A dance floor had been set up in the center of the living room and was crowded with dancing fringe and grinding bodies. Servers in black and white moved about with trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres.

"Wow," Cece said, looking around. "What is this?"

Soso laughed.

"My mom is a party planner," she said. "So when I told her I wanted to throw Milo's birthday party she insisted on taking over. Isn't it great?"

"Gatsby would be pleased," Cece said.

Soso seemed to glow under the compliment. Her gaze darted to the presents in Elliot and Cece's hands and she reached for them.

"I can take these, you go and enjoy yourself," she said. "Milo is somewhere."

She walked off, leaving Elliot and Cece standing in the tiled entryway.

"What is this?" Cece asked, again.

"What normal people do, or not, I have no clue," Elliot said. "The last themed birthday we had was your eighth birthday. We all just wore some assortment of hats and drank tea like crazy people."

"And it was the most legendary Mad-Hatter party there was."

"So I guess this is what people do when they have things like...ummm what are those things we really don't have a lot of and you blame all your problems on?"

"Alpacas?"

"No, the other things."

Cece nodded in understanding.

"Friends."

"Right, I guess this is a normal occurrence if you have those."

They stared at the constantly morphing crowd, people breaking from groups and forming new ones, while others disappeared in search of drinks. Cece turned to Elliot.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" she asked.

"Besides people doing a poor job of staying within the boundaries of the time period dress code? I don't know."

"I agree, stilettos were not invented then. It's really a lack of research on the girls' part. But that's not what I mean. Look."

Elliot glanced around and her eyes widened.

"Oh no. How did this happen?"

"Not everyone knows. Soso is obviously ignorant to this fact."

"We should go find Milo, this is definitely not his type of party," Elliot said.

"Right, he could be hiding in a closet waiting for us to rescue him. Poor guy. Let's go."

They left the entryway and cut their way through the thick throng of party goers. Music pounded through the room, seeming to send every nerve pulsing with the rhythm of the heavy beat. Elliot pushed herself closer to Cece and raised her voice.

"Ten bucks says he has found a corner and is waiting for us there," she said.

"I say balcony," Cece said. "Let's split up and look for him. I'll meet you at the bar in twenty, whether we have found him or not."

Elliot nodded and they separated in opposite directions. Elliot nudged her way though the living room, searching for Milo. When her surveying of every corner, hidden alcove and closet produced no result, she climbed the three steps to the bar.

A bartender gracefully moved along the length of the counter mixing drinks and handing out flirty smiles. Elliot gave the room another glance then sat down on one of the stools. The line for drinks hit a lull and the bartender walked over to Elliot, a smile at the ready.

"What can I get for you?" he asked.

Elliot leaned on the counter.

"How about a Tomorrow's Promise, hold the gin?" she said.

The bartender's smile faltered and a crease appeared between his eyebrows. Elliot made a face.

"You don't know that one?" she said. "It's fine, it's kind of obscure. How about a Footprints in the Sand?"

The bartender's smile widened, but the puzzled crease still remained. Elliot waved her hands.

"Sorry, they only serve that in Norway. Okay, I'll just go with a classic an Evening's Shadow."

"Of course," the guy said, uncertainty in every syllable.

He grabbed a glass, but looked at Elliot before making another move.

"You want gin in that?" he asked.

Elliot frowned and made a face.

"No, instead just make me a Paradise Lost."

The bartender nodded, trying to hold back his confusion. He went to work, pouring vodka into a glass.

"Do two extra cherries and hold the shot of tequila," Elliot said.

The guy looked at her and she gave him a wide smile.

"Got it," he said, his baffled tone contradicting his words.

A muffled laugh pulled Elliot's attention away from the bartender's frazzled process. She turned around to see Beck leaning on the bar, one hand in his pocket. He wore black slacks, a white button down shirt, black tie and a white dinner jacket.

"Oh, hello there old sport," Elliot said.

Beck moved closer and leaned towards her.

"Are any of the drinks you asked for real?" he said.

Elliot shook her head.

"No," she said. "I was going down the list of book titles written by some cheesy romance author. Natalie Hamlet."

"You understand most drink names have some sort of sexual innuendo?"

"Dang, I knew I should have gone with Rachel Newson's books. She writes bodice rippers. I probably would have gotten a descent drink."

"Probably."

The bartender appeared before Elliot and pushed a pink drink before her. Before she had the chance to try it, the man looked to Beck.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I'll have an Evening's Shadow, hold the gin," Beck said.

The bartender's smile tensed at Beck's impassive face. Elliot took a sip of her drink and almost gagged on the sour taste. She set down the glass and forced herself to swallow, grimacing. Beck glanced at her and smiled.

"On second thought," he said. "I'll have a Paradise Lost. No cherries."

The bartender looked between the two of them and walked a way, a scowl forming on his face.

"Now we can see if he remembered how he made this ghastly thing," Elliot said.

"We will."

Beck took the stool beside Elliot.

"Where is Cece?" he asked. "I expected to find a betting ring or dog fight in progress when I saw you."

"Please like we would ever have a dog fight," she said, "twenty floors up. There is no easy access escape route."

"My mistake. So if she's not running an illegal and brutal canine brawl, where is she?"

"She's looking for Milo. We're worried because this isn't his type of party."

"What? Crowded?"

"No, with balloons. He has a secret fear of them?"

"Seriously?"

"It's his irrational fear. Don't talk to him about it, he doesn't like people knowing."

"Okay. Have you seen him?"

Elliot shook her head.

"I searched every place a person could hide, but didn't find him."

"Did you look in the center of the party?"

Elliot gave him a patronizing look.

"Why on earth would I do that?"

Beck shrugged and pointed to the center of the room.

"Because he might be there."

Milo was talking to group of people, a drink in his hand and a wide smile on his face. Someone said something and he burst out laughing.

"I should have guessed," she said. "By putting himself in the center of the room he has strategically placed himself away from the balloons as well as adding a layer of people around him." Elliot crossed her arms and looked impressed. "I have to hand it too him, I knew he was smart but that is pure genius."

"Or he could simply be enjoying his friends and the party."

Elliot turned to Beck.

"You never struck me as being naive but I have been wrong before." She turned away. "It was three months ago. It had to do with a man named Albert and and an unfortunate incident with a wheelbarrow."

"Was that suppose to make any sense?"

Elliot gave a wry chuckle.

"You had to be there. Sadly, Albert was not."

Elliot glanced over at Beck and found him giving her a look that was the mixture of confusion and amusement. She looked back to where Milo was and saw him toss back the contents of his glass.

"This isn't good," she said.

Beck followed her gaze.

"Why not?"

"Because Milo is as pissy as a thirteen year old when he drinks too much," Elliot said. "That's why we wouldn't have had alcohol at our party. If we had thrown him one."

"I'm sure he's fine," Beck said.

"Fine, he may be but if you add his pissiness to the mood he was in earlier then when he sees Cece it's not going to be good."

Beck looked at her.

"Ten bucks he makes a scene when it happens," he said.

"You're on, but he's going to stalk off first and she'll follow him."

Cece appeared from the crowd and stopped before Elliot. She opened her mouth but closed it again as she looked between Elliot and Beck.

"Are you friends now?" she asked. "I just want to know what level of civility I should show him."

Elliot cocked her head.

"I say we are closer than a mongoose and a panther, but not as tight as a canary and an alligator."

Cece nodded.

"Got it," she said. She twisted to face Beck. "Hello Beck, you look good this evening, the 1920s suits you."

"As they do you," he said.

Cece shrugged off the comment.

"Is this yours, El?" she asked, reaching for Elliot's glass.

Elliot looked back, noticing at some point the bartender had placed Beck's drink beside hers.

"Yes," she said.

Cece took a sip, then instantly spit it back out. Making a face, she set the glass back on the counter.

"What did you do this time?" she asked. "Book titles or songs?"

"Book titles, ones by Natalie Hamlet."

"Should have done Rachel Newson, might have gotten something drinkable."

Beck shook his head and chuckled.

"Next time," Elliot said. "I found Milo."

"Oh, where? Why isn't he with you?" she asked.

Elliot pointed to Milo and Cece spun around. She stared for a long second. A smug grin spread across her lips as she crossed her arms and nodded.

"Well done, Milo," she said. "Center of the room, equidistance from every group of balloons and surrounded by people. I knew he was smart, now I know he's brilliant."

"That's what I said," Elliot commented.

Cece turned around.

"Okay, I'm going to say hi," she said.

She left, with Elliot and Beck watching her.

"Now, we'll see what happens," Elliot said.

Milo didn't look at Cece as she approached and shrugged when she tapped his should. A determined look entered Cece's eye as she smiled, said something and tugged on Milo's arm. He turned towards her, the laughter falling from her face. The sound of voices and music made hearing their words impossible. Only a few sentences were exchanged when Milo turned and headed towards the balcony, Cece following.

"Come on," Elliot said. "I want to hear this."

She hopped off her stool and pushed her way through the crowd, with Beck beside her. The city was a beacon of life, every building lit up. A warm summer breeze sauntered over the balcony and off the other side. Cece and Milo's conversation became clear as Beck and Elliot stepped outside.

"There is nothing going on with me," Milo said, an undercurrent of annoyance running through his words.

"Then why aren't you talking to me?" Cece asked.

"Do I have to talk to you? It's my party, I can do whatever I want."

"Yes, but I'm your friend. I just wanted to say hi."

"Well, maybe I didn't want to talk to you," Milo said, his voice raising.

Elliot leaned against the glass wall and watched, a frown forming.

"Tell me why then," Cece said.

Milo swung his arms wide in an uncaring gesture.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "I'm over it."

"Over what?" Cece said. "Milo, what is going on? What did I do?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, then what is the problem?"

"That is the problem!"

"That I did nothing is the problem?"

"Exactly. That is exactly what the problem is, you did nothing."

"If I did nothing, then why are you mad at me?"

Milo growled, his fist clenching.

"How do you not get it?" he asked. "How do you not understand that you did nothing and that's why I'm done. Done with it all."

Cece stared at Milo with wide eyes.

"You're crazy, nothing you said made any sense," she said.

"I'm crazy?!" Milo said, his face getting more and more animated with each syllable. "What's crazy is that I ever liked you. That I was an idiot and waited. That's what's crazy. But guess what Cece? I'm done. With all of it!"

Cece made a face.

"That is what this is about?" she said. "Is that why you haven't been talking to me the last few days?"

Milo's face flushed with anger. Beck leaned over to Elliot.

"Should we intervene?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "If you don't feel like keeping you head and limbs attached to your body."

Beck nodded.

"How do you not see that that is what this has always been about?" Milo said, his voice raising.

"What do you want me to say Milo?"

Milo flung his arms out to the side, spilling the contents of his drink.

"I don't know anymore and I don't care."

"About liking me or about being my friend?"

"Both. Either. Neither. I don't know! I just know for once Cece I'm tried of the games and your constant flirtation that goes no where. I want someone who makes sense."

Cece crossed her arms, her face going hard.

"Is that why you started hanging out with this Soso person?" she asked.

"I like her."

Cece tossed up her hands. "Since when?"

"Since she notices that I exist."

"I notice!"

"Yes, when it's convenient or you have a joke to tell."

Cece's expression took on a stung look.

"Do you really believe that?"

"I don't know! You have never told me anything so that I would believe otherwise!"

Cece opened and closed her mouth, fighting her stubbornness.

"Milo...I don't..."

Milo's face fell into a hard, despondent look.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said.

The door opened and Soso walked out.

"Hey!" she said, "it's cake time!"

She paused and looked between Cece and Milo, and Elliot and Beck.

"Did I miss something?" she asked.

Milo shook his head, his face reverting to a passive look.

"No," he said.

He moved over to Soso and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Let's go get some cake," he said, his voice weary.

Cece stood rooted to the spot. The doors closed, muffling the sounds of the party. Beck glanced at Elliot, but she was looking at Cece.

"Cece," she said.

Cece turned and walked towards them, her face devoid of emotion.

"I'm not in the mood for cake," she said. "I'm going home. Enjoy the rest of the party."

"Do you want me to come-"

"No," Cece said, cutting Elliot off. "I'm going to go write."

Cece slid through the doorway and was swallowed up by the party.

"This is not good," Elliot said.

**********************************************************************

Geez! Cheddar Cheese! (My sister and I were debating this, is it Jeez or Geez?)

Really quick if you feel the need to tell me what you thought because Milo and Cece fought, then do so and lets move on!

What makes you happy? I once wrote down a hundred things that made me happy and I could have gone on, there is just so much around me that makes me smile. But since writing out my hundred things here would be crazy long I will give you five and I hope you answer with your own five!

1. MY DOG!

(Hence the picture at the bottom.) When I give her a bath I blow dry her hair. (Yes, I know it's ridiculous but it's cold and I don't want her getting sick) She turns out looking a lot like a cloud. It's the cutest thing in the world and makes me crazy happy!

2. Reading your comments and replying.

I love hearing from you and knowing what you think about anything and everything!

3. Writing!

I honestly would be lost without my stories! They cheer me up when life gets hard and help me focus on something other then being so tired.

4. Music!

I have a playlist I constantly keep adding songs too. They are usually upbeat songs because I have enough tough things in my life I don't need a song telling me to be sad about it! (Haha that's just my opinion at the moment. Slow songs are still wonderful things)

5. You!

You may not think it but it's true! (Okay, I know you are thinking I'm just saying this but I'm not.) You honestly could not fully understand how much you reading my book truly means to me. I love knowing that you are reading these words and finding a tiny bit of happiness from them! You seriously brighten up my day!

So here is my dog to brighten up yours!