<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/17/Aori_Kisaragi.jpg)</div><br/>No one really knew how Aori kept showing up to these high society affairs.  Certainly she wasn't invited, but a few years of experience had taught the socialites that simply leaving her alone tended to work better than attempting to remove her by force.<br/><br/>Tonight's jeans had holes worn through the knees, revealing just enough shaved leg beneath to catch the attention.  It almost seemed to be a peace offering that she wore a white sweater, because white got dirty so easily...unless it was a dare.<br/><br/>She found herself a seat on a chaise lounge next to a pretty young woman who sat beside an older gentleman, glass of champagne gripped in hand.  "So what's the celebration?"<br/><br/>The blonde offered the sort of snooty grimace that came from being born with a silver spoon in your mouth and refusing to learn to accept the taste of anything else.  She turned to the man beside her.  "Husband, wouldn't you like to see some of the other rooms?"<br/><br/>"Husband, huh?"  Aori leaned forward to look at the man, who joined his wife in a sour visage.  "He can follow and watch if you want; I don't mind."<br/><br/>Scorn transformed to aghast disgust as the blonde peered over her nose at Aori.  "You really are a perverse and wretched thing, aren't you?"<br/><br/>Aori just smiled, raising her hands in a "What can you do?" gesture.  "That's what Mom says, anyway."<br/><br/>The husband soon stood, leading his wife away by the hand and softly trembling with fury.  Aori kicked up her boots onto the chaise lounge, laying back against the armrest.