"That's one word for it," Sunshine says as she trudges up to the bar. Finally. Success. And Eliot will probably hook her up with a fancy booze concoction if she asks him nicely.

:Look at Eliot's nice, practical suit,: her narrator grouses helpfully. :No queen-sized bedroom set's worth of superfluous cloth for him. He could actually move around in that, if he wanted to. Sunshine, meanwhile, isn't even sure how to navigate sitting down.:

Sunshine flaps a dismissive hand at the empty air. "I'm being narrated," she says. If this wasn't a dream, and she wasn't already five hundred percent done with it all, she'd probably think twice before admitting such a thing (and then settle on admitting nothing). As it is, well, whatever. "It's frigging obnoxious, and I am prepared to drink whatever you care to put in front of me."

:There are probably kinder ways to greet a friend.:

Sunshine lets out a long-suffering sigh, not least of all because the asshole voice has a point. "Sorry. How are you?" She drapes herself over the bar in Eliot's general direction. "It's been a while."

:More her fault than his, she thinks. She really hasn't been up for much, lately.: