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E L L I O T C R O W L E Y
"The night is the hardest time to be alive and 4am knows all my secrets."
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Jacob played things too safe, Elliot thought. Letting those rat-ass demons shadow these girls? What if they were caught? Who would the girls believe then? What a ridiculous plan. That being said, Elliot's plan wasn't any better, since he was heading there by himself. The curly haired boy thought he'd overheard that one or both of the girls might be at this address, but at the end of the day it's hard to trust a demon, and he'd have fun at an American party regardless.
Elli sent one last text before entering the party. Who knew where he would be the next morning. It was for the best Jacob knew where he was.
To: Jacob
@ party. Have fun w your research ...
Okay, he had sort of abandoned Jacob. Their plan was to go together and find the girls. Too many rules, too much control. 'Follow my lead, and let me do all the talking. We don't need to cause trouble. We just need to find the girls.' That's a laugh. Elliot snickered to himself from outside the red, front door. What a diva.
Instead, Elliot decided to go find the girls himself. How hard could it be really? Unfortunately, Elli’s facial recognition was a bust. He'd have to go off of what little he remembered.
Next thing he knew he was pushing the red door open, and out flooded the cliche of American life. Drunk teenagers sprawled over couches. They danced and laughed. The lights were dim, and the bass-heavy music made his ears throb. He loved it. Really, it wasn't any different from a party you'd find England.
Inside he could hear the cheers of a fight, and he was undeniably interested by the atmosphere. Five feet into the party and someone had already spilled their drink down the front of his sweatshirt. He snatched a beer from the nearest cooler, he was going to need it.
Elliot pressed onward, able to twist the the bottle cap off his beverage with the hem of the newly dampened sweatshirt. Joining the nearest group of teenagers he caught only part of conversation. "And that bitch, Miss... What's-Her-Ass?" One intoxicated young man began, struggling to remember some woman's name. He was ginger, freckles spreading from ear to ear, and his arm wrapped around a girl who seemed less than pleased to be there.
"Ms. Dean," the girl suggested dully. She was obviously bored, still the boy rested half of his body weight on her shoulders.
"Ms. Dean was getting on my case about-"
"Yeah, Ms. Dean, she’s mental, have any of you-”
"Your accent?" The ginger was startled by the addition to their small party. Elliot was from England like Jacob, but he spoke with an Irish accent endowed to him by his mother.
Elli shoved his hands in his pockets. "Russian exchange student.” He shrugged politely. “Listen, ye seen an Alice Grey around?" He asked. The ginger shook his head in a daze, probably caught up on the Russian thing. "Well, visit Russia sometime and tell them you know me. Deluxe pagan ritual discounts.” Elliot departed quickly, to avoid any further conversation.
It was around this time he began wishing he would have taken a better look at the girls’ photos. "ALICE?...KATE?" Elliot shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. He continued to shout this for a good five minutes, but the music was too loud and the people were too drunk. Every so often he would stop a couple girls on his way through the sea of a crowd. "Is your name Alice, my dear?" Elliot would ask. No luck. The cheers grew louder and louder, until he was outside. Fight! Fight! Fight! Two girls fought viciously, and Elliot watched in astonishment, one of them looked vaguely familiar. Then again, the drink was beginning to beat his 150lbs.. Elliot’s ears were ringing and he couldn't tell if it was because of the music or something else. Was she one of the girls? Elliot didn't have a stomach for violence, so he moved on.
Wait a minute, did somebody just shout ‘Kate’?