It seems like it, and they're plying her with special drinks

"And you wanted Raoul for your A party?" Bobby asked, laughing. "Raoul, she must have heard about you!"

The man named Raoul shrugged his meaty shoulders. He was a rather plain man, bordering on pudgy, and looked to be one of the poorer of the group, though he seemed to be doing pretty well at poker, if the pile of chips in front of him was any indication.

Rachel was about to explain what she meant when a number of cameras caught her eye. They ranged from small to professional looking, and lay on shelves at the side of the room. Seeing them she perked up, doubts eased. These guys were definitely in the business if they had that kind of serious equipment on hand.

Bobby noticed her brightening up and followed her gaze. "You like people taking pictures of you while you party?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Rachel nodded, grinning. "I want to make a profession of it." She blinked, knowing it hadn't come out quite like she'd meant, but her clarification was pre-empted by one of the guys - Dave? - putting a drink in her hand. "Thank you," she said politely, and sipped.

When she nearly sprayed the liquid the guys burst out laughing. "What...?" she choked.

Bobby thumped her on the back painfully hard, and she nearly dropped the glass.

"Drink up!" he urged her. Reluctantly she brough it to her lips, but he grabbed her hand. "All at once is best, I assure you."

Rachel gulped nervously, but not wanting to offend such potentially powerful men she drank the rest of the glass in one go. Her throat burned, her eyes felt like they were bulging, and her stomach seemed to seize up. All around the guys laughed.

"Well done, Rachel," Bobby said, hand on her hip. "Few have been allowed to taste our exclusive concoction. You belong in fine company."

Rachel tried to take solace in his words, but even the certainty that she'd done the right thing to get into the in-crowd was hard-comfort to her churning insides. "Dave, another one."

"Oh, no, really..." Rachel protested, but a refill appeared in her hand and Bobby tipped her hand toward her mouth.

"I insist. The second will go down much easier, I assure you. Besides, you wouldn't refuse our gift, would you?"

Rachel braced herself for the drink's punch, throwing back the second glass, the vile liquid being scarcely more bearable than the first. Her eyes watered and her throat burned as it went down, and as if smoke was sizzingly upwards she could feel her head become cloudy.

"Excellent. Let's not stint with the drinks," he said, and a refill appeared.

Rachel wanted nothing better than to dump it somewhere other than her mouth, but she didn't dare offend these people. She remembered Katrina's crass advice to flirt with and do anyone who could be even remotely possible, and now that she knew these guys were one of the exclusive hollywood clubs of movers and shakers she resolved do anything to please them.

Even swallow their horrible drinks.