<br/><div class="floatleft">(http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/c8/88/e5/c888e5269a9fd9ce9dd07279cbb1c294.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Ryder Monroe<br/><br/><br/><strong>Location:</strong>At the bar, getting regulated<br/><br/><br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Liz, open<br/><br/><br/><strong>Content:</strong>Lying to herself- both of her.<br/><br/><br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>As shown<br/><br/><hr/><br/>"I was drunk," Ryder mumbled. "And coked out of my head." Draining her glass, she banged it on the bar to signal for a refill. The edge was coming off, and she had a nice roaring in her ears that was damping out some of the noise from the party. Not the noise from Liz, though. She didn't need to look at her to know she was calling bullshit. It was the god-damndest thing. Even after everything, it was hard for them to lie to each other. Somehow, each of them just...knew.<br/><br/>"All right," she admitted, a rasp in her voice. "I had just ditched the bint I had been staying with, and she'd gotten kinda weepy. Big scene, public, nasty shit.  I got to thinking about you and...her. And I missed you, too." Finally, glass in hand, she faced her twin eyes-on. "SO I called. Guess I cared if you were still alive. More'n our damn parents ever did. Now I'm here, and...I don't..." Her throat closed down, and she looked away again, guzzling down her third drink in a couple of long swallows. "Don't know what to say to you."