Beth, or "PartierBetherz" as she was known among her friends, was a fixture of the local nightlife. With her fair skin and striking green eyes hidden behind her tinted aviators, she cut an imposing figure wherever she went. Her blonde ponytail swayed beneath her white fedora as she strode through the neon-lit streets in her white blazer and black low-ankle boots, her red lips curved into a confident smile. She was always the life of the party, her laughter echoing above the thrumming bass, her black eyeshadow and liner accentuating her expressive features as she danced the night away. But tonight was different. She stood alone on the street corner, the usual buzz of anticipation absent from her stomach. Instead, there was a knot of uncertainty. She adjusted her aviators, looking over them at the crowd gathered outside the newest club. For once, she wasn't among them. Tonight, she was just Beth, the 19-year-old woman behind the tags and labels, seeking not to party, but to find a quiet corner where she could be alone with her thoughts.
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