Laure slipped into the hallway, following the flow of people in fancy dresses and tuxes. She figured that it was the correct place to be, and if not, oh well. She'd gone long enough without a steady cash flow<br/><br/>The invitation had been quite a surprise. She'd been working late at the bar, throwing off the usual group of drunk guys, when a man got up and left. She hadn't remembered him arriving, and certainly didn't remember him paying. Then again, some people left their due in a shot glass. Unless they had a note stating that they'd paid, the security wouldn't let them leave until their action was confirmed through a thumbs up. Sure enough, a five and two ones sat inside the glass where he'd sat. She gave the gesture, placing the money into her pocket, only to find the slip of paper later that night when counting the day's earnings.<br/><br/>Surprising, finding something to wear wasn't hard. She had some old dresses from her skating days that still fit, both for on the ice and parties before and after competitions. She'd usually just take something out of those. Laurel had picked up a nice, long, black dinner dress. It was one shouldered-with a single full sleeve consisting of tight sheer fabric dotted with floral embellishments. The sheer fabric ran all the way to her slim waistline, before transitioning into a straight-cut silky pool of black. Her shoes were nothing more that silver knee-high gladiators that occasionally showed she sat or walked. She'd finished off the look with some simple earrings and a pleated updo.<br/><br/>As she approached the bouncer, she gave him a solid glance, before calmly and quietly stating her name in a placid tone. "Laurel Jessica Glowsteffe. I believe I receive an invitation from a Mister Goodeman?" She asked, tilting her head as she looked back up towards him.<br/><br/>When she entered the dining room, she skipped over the food, taking a seat towards the front of the room, though directly on the edge. She listened closely as others all chatted about the man and his business, what they would do with the money.<br/><br/>After a short while, Mr. Goodeman took the stage and commenced a toast. Laurel clanked her water glass against the other three people's at her table, and suddenly was overcome by a deep feeling of dizziness and disorientation. She must've been sick, as she could've sworn she had just seen lights spring up from the room. She closed her eyes quickly, opening them and reaching up to rub her temples, but stopping when she noticed that her raven black hair was a stark, bright white, and now more of a cropped cut that her wavy, long strands. Not only that, but the area around her suddenly seemed much darker. As she looked over, she noticed that the shadows around the edges of the room seemed to be pulsing with energy and heartbeat, swirling as if they  were their own entity.<br/><br/>Someone screamed about needing a doctor, and Laure was snapped out of her sudden fear. The shadows seemed to ebb away a bit, but now the light was pulsing and shining too brightly. "Calm down. It's not just you. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this, and it won't help anyone to panic. So, please,<span style="font-style: italic">relax and chill the hell out</span>." She was getting a headache, and didn't know if she could honestly manage to say anything more, none the less deal with mass panic and leave with her mind in one piece. She was now starting to notice that everyone around her was no longer just themselves. They were layers and layers of people, all with different expressions. She felt like she was about to faint.<br/><br/>Someone else fell tot he floor and started screaming, and Laure knew that others would soon react the same. Mr. Goodeman ordered the security to handle the man, but she already felt as though her very conscious were being squeezed out of her. She needed to get out of this place immediately. She stood up and slowly began to stumble her way to the door.