Fucking coffee? After all that, coffee?

Izzy slid, racked with torment, into a booth at the café. This one was far enough from Ivan's domain of power that he wouldn't catch them at it. Though, given that Mina would be joining her any second, she didn't think it would matter. Even among the lofty ranks of Tystalten guests, the Trivett family held a place way high up. Probably, Izzy could kill a dog in front of Ivan and he wouldn't say a word, so long as Mina had her back. She put her head in her hands, with her elbows against the cold glass for support. It felt like the meat was going to fall off her bones. Stay in school, don't do ****, kids, the messages went when you were in grade school. By dropping out of grad school she screwed up the first part, and now she'd ruined her record on the second, too. It was probably only for decency's sake that the hand puppets didn't also add, Don't let two rich guys cum on your face on camera, while your chi chi blonde friend eggs you on. That didn't come up as much, either.

"Heyyyy!!" The sound of Mina's voice. Izzy took a second to summon the strength to look up. And she looked wonderful. The slightest touch more modest than last night, in a white turtleneck and dark pants, with big, fuzzy ear muffs on, but still immaculate. Everybody around them could read what kind of night Izzy had had from the mottled red splotches on her face and the dark rings under her eyes, but they probably thought Mina had slept a full nine hours. It was like she was a vampire.

"Hey," Izzy said, pathetically.

"You look cute." More lies. Though, she hadn't lied last night, but she hadn't represented the whole truth, either. Assuming she'd known what was going to happen. It seemed impossible she hadn't. Could it be that in the Trivett family, nights that crazy weren't anything to write home about? Izzy pushed that thought away.

"Thanks. I love those ear muffs," Izzy said, with none of her usual glow.

"Did Ivan give you any trouble?"

"No." Sort of. Nothing more than a manager's sass, as required by his position. "Thanks for talking to him."

"My pleasure." She said the last word with such relish. Like it could compare to the 'pleasure' of last night. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yes," Izzy made herself say. Mina Trivett didn't understand the concept of angst. Given how she acted last night, she would be baffled if Isabella tried to explain the concept of classical Catholic guilt. You could have a great time doing something and still want to kill yourself over it the next day. It's called cognitive dissonance, and it's very well established in the literature. She thought she was getting that definition wrong.

Mina bopped, dancing in place in the seat on the other side of the table, until she took off her ear muffs. They had her music playing from them, Izzy gleaned. Soon, coffees arrived for the both of them. It was then that the maid remembered she hadn't had any calories since her dinner break the night before. Unless cocaine had calories in it. If it did, she doubted her nose could process them. Oh, God, she thought. You did fucking cocaine.