Goodnight, my loves
The night air was crisp, a refreshing contrast to the stuffy, chaotic energy of the bar we had just escaped from. Lydia, Aeliana, and I stumbled out into the dimly lit street, laughter bubbling between us.
I wasn't sure if it was the cocktails, the sheer absurdity of the evening, or a combination of both, but everything felt twice as funny as it should have.
"That bartender," Lydia began, clutching her sides as she doubled over in laughter, "he genuinely thought I was ordering a 'royal tea.'"
"To be fair," Aeliana chimed in, her cheeks flushed from either the alcohol or the relentless laughter, "you are a queen. The man probably thought he was catering to royalty."
"He made it with actual tea!" Lydia squealed, her voice breaking as she dissolved into another fit of giggles. "Tea and vodka! Who does that?"
I clutched a lamppost for balance, trying to steady myself amidst the chaos. "You did drink it, though," I pointed out, grinning.