"What's up with Murray?" Cliff glanced at the man drowning his sorrows in scotch, quietly sliding closer to York.

When they entered, Murray had been sporting a glower that could kill. The lively buzz of the party had noticeably dimmed.

"Somebody got blocked," Ever the instigator, York couldn't help but add fuel to the fire, reveling in the drama.

Murray's face darkened even more at the words.

Crash! He slammed down his wine glass on the glass table, his frustration palpable as he roughly undid the top buttons of his shirt, a hint of aggression in his movements. "I said, stop mentioning her. Can't you understand what I said?"

York just shrugged, opting to stay silent.

The mood shifted instantly. The singers fell silent, and the chatter around them died down, nobody daring to speak up.

Cliff almost choked on his drink. Roseanne was seriously not messing around, huh?

A bit tipsy, Corley leaned in and whispered to Cliff, "Did Roseanne come back yet?"

Cliff just shook his head and mumbled something noncommittal, not daring to say much.

got the hint, guessing Roseanne probably hadn't returned

round, and feeling brave, someone suggested, "How about a game of Truth or Dare?" Everyone quickly caught on, eager to lighten the mood and avoid further

love Truth or Dare," announced a woman who

We've got a spot by

beside Murray, the club's star attraction

disinterested. "Have

stunned faces and a Janie, who had lost out on

the bar, the driver asked

a few glasses of brandy, Murray felt

mansion, he muttered,

here?" It was ten at night, and the assistant, ready

about his irregular schedule around this time, playfully demanding he go to bed early. Despite his protests, he'd usually give in and

"Wrapping up for

humbly, "Yes, Mr. Sherwood. Anything else you

of hunger and the alcohol stirring uncomfortably in his stomach. He turned pale. "Could you get me some soup? From

back within twenty minutes

upon opening it, he couldn't hide his displeasure.

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