Noone is left in the ballroom.
Before leaving, the guests thoughtfully decorated the floor with their red solo cups despite the trash and recycling bins next to the drink table.
Somehow a light was knocked out. Glitter is absolutely everywhere and the staff will spend weeks finding it in every nook and cranny. Bits of the guests' costumes are everywhere.
A feathered masquerade mask here, one disgustingly expensive shoe there. Tomorrow, the staff will draw straws for who has to retrieve the lone garter lying in a dark corner.
Noone is left in the ballroom except for two very tired, slightly intoxicated individuals.
"All i'm saying is, that at least motorcycles are safer than those AI, future, self-driving... uh...
w-what's the word again? For the vroom vroom things?", says a man with a neatly trimmed beard who is wearing what probably started as a tuxedo but is now missing his jacket and tie.
"Cars?", burps out his blond friend. This man is not as finely groomed and yet exudes an air of confidence, which is a very male thing to do.
"Yeeeeaah caaaaars," slurs Almost-Tuxedo-Man, "so that's why you should have nwarries for when im riding around on my bike".
Over the past half-hour the two men have been stumbling towards the tall, ornate doors,
but have made little progress due to their propensity to launch into heated nonsense conversations that toe the line of heated actual arguments.
As mentioned before, they are only slightly inebriated. The tuxedo man was entertaining on the piano for the entire evening, and only had time for one glass of wine.
Two drinks into the evening, the blond man decided he had been having more fun when his eyes were buzzing from adrenaline and not alcohol,
and he was also busy accompanying the piano with his singing. Despite the general lack of alcohol in their systems, they still stumbled and rambled on, which was due mostly to pure exhaustion.
Perhaps their reluctance to finally exit the building was also due partly to the intoxicating presence of each other.
"That's. That is. Not the problem. Theo", mutters the normally bubbly blond. "The problem is. You are not understanding what I'm trying to say. What I'm trying to say is.
The reason I worry when you ride your bike, and stay up so late you see the sun rise, and seem to not let the world affect you,
is that I care about what happens to you. And, and I care about you."
Theo replies with a frown, "That's nice and all. But you don't need to worry about me like at all. I'm good at taking care of myself. Really I am. That's all there is too it.
God my head hurts like, like... What's the place with the fire and bad stuff?"
"Hell. Listen, I don't believe you because we have been friends for 2... or is it 5...
We've been friends for a helluva long time, and you've never once come to me with an emotional problem.
You are always trying to shield yourself from the world, as if you're worried it might affect you.
Theo, the reason you've been stuck in this town for so long, despite your big dreams, is because you don't do anything ambitious enough for fear of failure".
Cars rush by outside, carrying sleep-deprived passengers doing who-knows-what.
At night they don't feel the gaze of a god on their neck, and so they feel free to indulge in whatever the night tempts them to do.
Theo holds his friend's gaze for a moment longer, then he starts to giggle. "Ah sorry, Caleb. Wow. That was a nice speech though".
"This cowboy's running from himself", sighs out Caleb.
"Nothing. It's a line from a Vance Joy song. I was obsessed with it in 2016."
Theo hums a few bars of a pop song that the radio once knew well.
"Yeah. Yeah that's it," smiles Caleb.
They shuffle closer and Caleb picks up the song where the normally neat, but now disheveled man left it off.
His voice rings and echoes in the empty ballroom, a peaceful and more eerie singer than the one earlier in the night.
The tension dissipates as one places his hands on the other's shoulders and the other rests his own hands on the other's hips. They sway together to the reverberating melody.
Theo thinks to himself, "Maybe I'm ready to feel again".
Caleb thinks to himself "How is hair so soft?".
Soon the sun will rise, and there will still be only two people in the ballroom.