From her vantage point in one of the private Column rooms, Twist watched the shuffle of Lily patrons around the main floor. Though not choreographed like one of her shows, there were nonetheless patterns that were held. Routes walked more frequently than others, corners avoided, strong characters that held focal points for the whole room.
Given the atmosphere of the Lily, she hadn't changed from work outfit. A fitted grey suit, that at second glance was shown to be pinstriped. The grey of the stripes only a hair darker than the rest of the suit. A purple blouse was a splash of color to match her heels. Her dark hair was looped up in a relaxed bun at the nape of her neck, a few strands curling free of their restraints.
She fought the urge to slip out and into the dance of people, instead leaning back in her seat. Lance should be arriving any time now and his letter spoke of talking, not reveling in the press of humanity present at a bar.