"Sorry," I mumble to the man sitting directly across from me.  Man, this room is getting hot.  Well, at least I think it is.  I can't be sure- the drug seems to be working its way up to my head now.  "Please excuse me." 

  I push my chair back and dash out of Sao Bistro just as a fuzzy feeling starts to wash over my body.  I can't see where I am going, but I faintly recall the elevator being in this direction when I entered.  The drug is biting its way closer to the target: my vessel.  Clutching my chest in a heaving effort to mitigate the pain, I crash my palm against a glowing arrow pointing down.  A ding resonates, and the elevator doors finally slide open.  I stumble in, tripping at the last minute, and land cheek down on the ground.  Anyone who steps in behind me would be met with the unpleasant scene of a girl, who they'd assume is hungover, wriggling desperately to cease the poison killing her body.   The elevator doors slide shut behind me, and I have to will myself not to scream in agony.  That surely would give away the mission.  All I can make out right now are mahogany boards surrounding all four of the walls around me, as if to trap me in this torture chamber for who knows how long.  I grit my teeth as sweat beads dot around my face.  "You better follow through with the plan, you idiot," I mutter while my body heaves up and down with every pulse of toxin.  "Gah!" I allow one shrivel of agony to escape, but immediately muffle it with a sweaty fist.  Thank goodness the elevator is vacant. "Why isn't this thing going down?!" I growl.  "He was supposed to already-" As if on cue, which it probably is, the elevator starts heading down.  Finally. I sigh in relief and allow myself to relax a bit on the floor.  At least this part of the plan is in accordance.   I push myself off the ground and impatiently watch the doors, pleading them to split apart right that moment.   Ding.  The doors slowly peel open, and right in front of me, is the cruelest excuse for a boy that I have ever encountered.     "Got the package?" he asks with a smirk.   Nevertheless, he still is my partner, and unless I want to get thrown into the streets, I am to cooperate in the most docile manner possible.   I wipe away a trail of sweat with the sleeve of the black lace dress I am wearing, trying to hold back my glares toward the idiot that made me wear it.  "Of course, I did." I try to calm my breathing as I emphasize my words, but that is difficult when daggers are slicing open your insides. So instead, I resort to, "How come you took so long to make the elevator go down?! I didn't risk my life by consuming the most poisonous substance imaginable and then being trapped-"   "Aish, quit complaining." The guy wraps an arm around my shoulders as if we were a regular couple exiting the premises of a hotel for an evening stroll. I fight the urge to brusquely push his intru