ALICE Ch 384

Despite its proximity to F1, Suzuka is not a party city. It’s not fashionable like certain parts of Tokyo. Many things in Japan are very nice, but they also tend to be utilitarian. The Shigeno is not opulent, but pains have been taken to create an atmosphere befitting the two celebrations that are about to begin.

On the ground level in front of the building, a software company has booths, girls in costumes, giveaways, and a staggering amount of lights and decorations promoting an upcoming video game. Voice actresses wave and sign autographs while a popular idol sings. Fans must approach on foot, as half the street is cordoned off for Irina’s guests. Some games industry VIP shows off an ancient Toyota hatchback that people seem to care about for some reason.

The space upstairs being used for the Orlova party is suitably huge, but it takes a lot of lights, glitter, and facades to hide the fact that it is clearly intended for big, Japanese business conferences. Irina has a silvery theme with dim red and orange lights. A jazz fusion band jams while cocktail waitresses in unnecessarily sexy miniaturized kimonos glide around with big trays laden with champagne and sake.

It typically takes five large hotels to fully accommodate the F1 circus, and FUTA is among the lucky teams that happen to be at the Shigeno, saving them from having to traverse the clogged streets below. For all its scale, the guest list for Irina’s party is restrictive. All the visiting celebrities are there, including Ed Sheeran, Brad Pitt, and Hugh Jackman. Less recognizable people who simply ooze ungodly amounts of money are plentiful. Oil people. Rare metal barons. Overnight Nvidia bros.

In the great scheme of rich and powerful people, Annette isn’t nothing, but she’s still like a chicken among ostriches. Even so, she can make a splash.

She walks in with Adella on her left arm and Riley on her right. They are the most attention-grabbing women in the room by a wide margin. Everyone looks, which is impressive given how visually noisy the party is. Maybe it’s the aggressive bulges.

Christian Horner sees them coming, and his jaw drops along with his drink. A maid is there in an instant to clean it up. Matt Berry does a spit take. One corner of Brad Pitt’s mouth turns up.

Even Irina pauses her conversation with a fabulously glamorous French woman and spares them a curious glance. She arches one eyebrow and looks both amused and approving.

Annette goes straight to the nearest bar; there are ten. The moment she’s alone, Glynda swoops in.

“What are you doing with my pit crew?” she asks quietly, taking note of Annette’s clinging dress and plunging neckline. It all suits her, but Glynda’s never seen her take this sort of care with her appearance.

“They were mine first. FUTA’s still never had another heel as good as Adella, and Riley’s still got it,” Annette adds. Glynda follows her gaze and sees more hors d’oeuvres and drinks dropped as Riley passes the Williams managers. They all turn to stare at her butt in her tight dress.