Darlene had come to the arcade after ditching some New Years Eve party somewhere in downtown Brooklyn. She'd done a good job of getting drunk off of expensive champagne -- the party was held by Darlene's more recent fuck buddy of the month; some 20-something that had made a quick fortune on a successful startup and now felt like he was king of New York. -- but the party itself had bored her and she'd spent most of the night messaging Trenton. Shocked to find that the girl had no plans for the evening.

Darlene was fairly certain that being without a single thing to do on New Years Eve in New York was a crime. Rather than fight the mobs of people at Times Square, they watched the action live streaming on one of the many laptops that had been left overnight. (Much to a paranoid Elliot Alderson's annoyance.)

"... It was so fucking lame. You'd think with that much money they would throw a good party." Darlene rambled with a shrug, a bottle of champagne between her legs and she took another swig from it before holding it out to share with Trenton just as the girl pushed some hair from her face.

Darlene swallowed thickly. This had become a familiar sort of tension between them.

"Do you usually do anything for New Years? You have to have gone out before for it." She asked, in hopes it would diffuse some of it.