In a rare moment of unquestioningly trusting her brother, Crysta nods and takes the next shot, not forgetting to raise it to him in turn. It's green, which is not today absinthe or something foul, but a nice mix of melon liqeur and lemon-lime. Okay. Tolerable.

"Yeah." She continues, conversationally, as though she hasn't just had the worst mouth experience of her entire life, "Like, exactly. Imagine our parents trying to like, spin that I've just left my entire inheritance to a party friend. They're already worried about me wasting all their money. I think I'll send them pictures of tonight."