Patricia's head fell back onto the board behind her as she let out a miserable groan.

She watched the blonde float around their dorm room, pulling articles of clothing off their hangers, then flinging them across the bed for future consideration. "Amber," Patricia whined, "Quit with the outfits! You've practically destroyed my entire closet." "We only have one hour to get you ready, Patricia, and you don't even own a suitable dress! I hope you understand the stressful situation you've caused." Amber flipped her hair over her shoulder, then set to work again. "Only an hour!" The redhead replied incredulously, "How long were you expecting this to take?" "I was expecting that you'd at least have something to wear!" The frantic blonde took a deep breath to calm herself, "But, being the genius that I am, I made a backup plan." She walked over to her dresser and soon produced a piece of paper with bubbly cursive written over most of its surface. "What's that?" Amber ignored the question and instead cleared her throat, suddenly turning very serious. "Now, if we follow the strict timeline that I set-up, we should be able to get you done by 7:45. This leaves exactly 10 minutes for you to accessorize with..." Her eyes wandered over to the skull rings and gothic-themed items scattered across her roommate's bureau, "...your own personal touches." She flashed a cheery smile, and was leafing through the closet again before Patricia could protest. The redhead was beginning to regret ever agreeing to this in first place. But if there was one thing better than Amber's eye for fashion, it was her powers of persuasion.

The bitter air stung her bare legs in the short black dress she was finally forced into. It was unseasonably cold outside, and the light cardigan was doing nothing to shield off the wind. The slim heels Amber insisted she wore tapped lightly against the pavement, muffled by the sounds of the city. Black cabs streaked by her, but at this busy time of night, few of them had their signs illuminated. She fidgeted with the hem of her dress as her eyes scanned the sea of traffic. Patricia finally spotted a vacant cab and quickly rushed over, hopping inside and slamming the door closed to keep in the warm air.

"2400 East Street, please." She recited the address then slouched comfortably in the back seat. The cars were moving at an agonizingly slow rate, meaning she had a long ride ahead of her. With her gaze fixed out the window, she felt a blast of cold air from behind and whipped around to see what it was. "Hey, can you bring me to the pub on Market ave?" The new passenger called up to the scruffy looking driver without a glance in her direction. "Uh, no, actually he can't!" She interjected loudly and gave the strange man her most menacing glare. Patricia was taken aback by how casual he seemed about it all. He even had the nerve to flash her a cheeky grin, as if that would somehow make up for his intrusion. With a quick talk of paying 'double the fare', the new rider settled in next to her. "And you are..." He turned to address her, the same smirk still playing on his lips. "Not interested." Patricia looked towards the window with every intention of ignoring him for the rest of the time. But this guy, whoever he was, had an equally strong mind. And much to her distaste, he laughed outright at her insult. "A little harsh, considering you don't even know my name." This time when he spoke, she got a good look at his face. He was quite handsome, she'd give him that, but his over-confident demeanor and American drawl were enough to put her on edge. Anyways, the names Eddie. His lips curved into a flirtatious grin as he extended his hand out to hers. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment, before meeting his again with an imperious stare. Patricia. She replied coolly, but her attention was out the window soon after. Now it was Eddies turn to gape; nobody had ever turned him down like that before. His curious gaze looked her over again, studying the cross features of her face, and enjoying the curve of her legs in the short black dress that had a tendency to ride up. So, where are you going all dressed up? Dont you think its a little fancy for this part of the city? The little smirk was back, and he crossed his arms expectantly, clearly awaiting an explanation.

For your information, Eddie, She spoke his name as if it was a curse rolling off her tongue, Im on my way to a date. A date with a guy much more considerate than you. And you know what, I shouldnt even be telling you this! Patricia huffed angrily at how easily he was able to pry information out of her. Ooh, poor guy. I hope he knows hes stuck with a yacker like you. Eddie chuckled lightly at cleverness to come up with a nickname. Patricia, on the other hand, was not amused. The cab slowly rolled up to the curb, stopping outside a crowded pub on Market ave. The redhead let out a sigh of relief, thankful to soon be rid of the obnoxious American. Well, Yacker, as much as Id love to stay and hang, I think Im going to go where people actually enjoy my company. He shot her one last smirk before paying the driver and stepping outside. He cut right to the front of the line that weaved around the block, strolling inside with a sort of swagger to his step. Disgusting. She muttered. The cabbie looked back at her, a suspicious gleam settled in his eyes. He was there throughout their entire conversation, and had a good ear to listen in. He hummed thoughtfully to himself, before shifting into gear and setting off towards 2400 East Street. Patricia tried to focus on the date that she was about to attend, but somehow her thoughts kept wandering back to that obnoxious American and his signature smirk. Disgusting, indeed.