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V hadn't done this for a long time - not since she was little, not since she left her first home - and she was sorry to find that she'd lost the knack for skipping stones. Or perhaps she wasn't, since it was a reminder of the person who had taught her the wrist-flick. A bitter scowl twisted the features of her lovely face, and she flung the next pebble so that it sank with a loud "bloop".

They could have been married by now, living the luxurious life... but nooo, he had to dump her for another and ride off to the fancy-schmancy school with his new love. A school which she had failed to get into because she just didn't have the smarts.

A gentleman should always let his beau do the dumping, not the other way round. Always. Biting back tears of self pity, V turned away from the pond and began to make her way out of the park.

Naturally it is hard to read signs by moonlight through watery vision, and our directionally challenged pampered princess took a wrong turn - quickly finding herself in a maze of green. Paths criss-crossed, looped back upon themselves, threaded their way through decorative arch vine-tunnels whose entrances and exits looked exactly the same.

She eventually found herself looking about for a map, or a lamp, or someone who could help her - she was not dressed for a night out, and it was starting to get cold.

Were those footsteps, rounding a bush on her right?

"H-h-hello?" Vena inquired, hoping the person was feeling charitable. Venturing outside the southeast had been a really, really bad idea.

Vena hesitated when she heard the rustle of those bags, but as the man drew closer she noted his clothes, and decided he wasn't some random homeless guy hanging out in the park after all. Not someone who'd try something funny. Fab.

Tall, dark and... nope, third requirement definitely not fulfilled. He wasn't exactly aged - closer to workworn, maybe, a member of the middle class for whom looking good wasn't a job requisite. V had always thought of this social caste as the people she "set the standard" for, helped her employers sell goods too, and under normal circumstances wouldn't so much as greet him. But she was cold, and lost, and he looked like he could help her -

Why was he walking away?

Maybe he hadn't spotted her in the shadows - a thought which displeased her, since she thought herself fair enough to attract anyone's attention even in this gloom.

"Excuse me!" She called out, breaking into a trot-jog to catch up with him. "Could you show me the way out of here? Like, to somewhere I can catch a cab from?"

Snotty is as snotty does, and while V's words were polite enough, her tone was much as if she were speaking to a junior makeup artist who did not quite know what she was doing.

She backed away from him ever so slightly when she caught his reply. Miss Cava had been behaving lately, so it was unlikely any paparazzi were camped outsider her house waiting to snag some juicy gossip fodder... but the idea of getting caught emerging from this plebeian's car at this hour repulsed V. It would add a highly unwanted angle to the public image she'd carefully carved of herself; as for taking the subway... !

"You're very kind, but I don't think my place is on the way to yours." She stated, demurely casting her eyes downwards as she gave herself a loose hug, absent-mindedly rubbing her upper arm with one hand - the effect was that V appeared vulnerable, bashful, sweet. In truth, she was eyeing those distasteful boxes of commercial cereal and mentally speculating if he ate it every morning without fail, no wonder he looked unfit. "But I'm really grateful for the help getting out of here, Mister... ?"

It paid to be nice (or at least pretend) to people you wanted something out of, but Vena didn't expect to remember anything about him after tonight - hell, it would be an achievement if she even recalled his face.

"Vena Cava," she returned the introduction with a gentle (half-hearted) handshake, pleased to note that worried glance he'd cast around their ungodly surroundings. Sometimes the damsel act worked, sometimes it didn't.

"You may have seen me around: on billboards, buildings, advertisements. Oh, and maybe in subway stations as well... just not physically."

V pulled her lips into the constipated form one photographer had dubbed "the cat smile", to indicate she'd made a joke. Then, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she turned in the direction George indicated earlier, clearly eager to start on the way home.

"Shall we...?"

His casual inquiry caused V to falter, and her steady glide to take on a grumpy, stompier rhythm. Yes, that reminded her. It was entirely her ex's fault she got lost in the park to begin with. Three years on and he was still sticking thorns into her life. Ugh!

"I was at the lake, thinking about someone who REALLY WASN'T WORTH THINKING ABOUT AFTER ALL."

Relaxing her jaw, V cast her guide another assessing glance. Nope - probably never been in love, wouldn't understand, couldn't sympathize. Save her breath for walking. Hopefully he wasn't the type to play therapist. Time for a change of subject ~

"Well, whatever. He's not worth talking about. Er. I see you're into late night shopping," she ventured, trying to make him talk about himself instead.

"Wow," she said, trying to sound impressed. If that was his job, his hours and outfit made sense. Kinda. Wait, did they work all day or just in shifts?

"So I guess checkout cashiers get really good employee discounts, huh? Like, if there's leftover stuff that doesn't sell well and stuff that's gonna expire soon and... and stuff."

The air had changed - there were different sounds in the air beside crickets and rustlings leaves. More familiar sounds, like people talking and traffic rolling past. V quickened her pace, slightly out of breath and very much looking forward to bath and bed.

At least she was no longer cold.

... Eh? All Vena could manage in response to that statement was a confused frown. He sounded like he was one of the higher-ups. People who decided what happened were always higher up, and everyone underneath was at their mercy. But he certainly didn't act like one of those power-hungry people, the kind she'd always thought were the fat cats at the top of the corporate ladder.

This was about as big a slip-up as when she asked someone "if that was his daughter" at the last charity ball. Sure nobody else was around to hear it, but V had pretty much just dissed someone who did something for her without expecting anything, and for some strange reason she actually felt bad for once. It was alright to play the damsel to get something you wanted, but insulting the person after succeeding wasn’t quite so fine.

“Y-yes, I guess I’ll just flag one,” she stammered, stepping off with an arm outstretched - causing one familiar yellow vehicle to screech to a halt. V bit her lip and opened the back passenger door, then turned with one hand on the top.

“Um, George. I’m grateful, I really am, and I didn’t mean to - “

“Hey lady, are you in or out?”

Vena, irritated, brushed her hair of her eyes with her spare hand and folded herself gracefully into the taxi.

“I’m sorry,” she said, shutting the door with a soft thud.