Champagne Problems Novels & Stories

I eyed the champagne flute warily as the boutique attendant placed it gently in my hand like it was holy. Dom Pérignon, a vintage, no less. Liquid money in a crystal glass. Tempting. But I was a lightweight. Embarrassingly so. One sip too many and I’d either start crying about betrayal or serenading the entire boutique with Taylor Swift ballads. Both were solid options for a breakdown, but neither was ideal when I was supposed to be playing the perfectly happy Mrs. Ashford.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a loud pop as Damon opened the champagne. "The owner said this is the most expensive bottle, so it must taste the best right?" "Haha, it doesn't always work that way." I knew he wasn't a fan of champagne, being a scotch or whiskey guy. "Mmm, not bad," he says as he swirls the sparkling liquid around in the glass. "Right? It always makes me so..... what's the word, outgoing? Spontaneous? more fun, I guess." "You don't consider yourself fun?"

Because she was clearly depraved. She should have probably done a witty little toast thing but she was too flustered. Instead she just took a massive uncouth quaff and winced as the bubbles shot up her nose. He looked a little shocked. He probably thought she was a burgeoning alcoholic. “Sorry. I…” Cole had to stop and sneeze, and it burned, making her eyes water. “Um. Sorry. I’m not that into champagne.” He took a neat little sip from his own glass. “Well, this is a Piper-Heidsieck Rare Vintage from 2002, reputably their best year since 1996.”

My arms ached as I carried it out. "Careful!" Sophie shrieked. "That's Daniel's favorite vintage! You can't afford to drop it!" Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was her voice. Either way, my foot slipped. The bottle crashed to the floor. Champagne exploded across the tile, golden bubbles catching the chandelier light as the room filled with the scent of $500-per-glass humiliation.

Her loud voice could break my eardrums. "Oh my gosh, Hazel, do you how much that wine could cost?" her voice was still as loud as if she was using a megaphone. I rolled my eyes and reminded her that it was a champagne and not just wine. She chuckled and rebutted that the two were just the same. I rolled my eyes again in return and bid her a goodbye before hanging up. I wanted to spend this time wisely, who knows when will I experience this again.

"We're going to need champagne." The barman—naturally, the same barman who'd witnessed my amazingTrevi fountain alla Coca Cola display earlier—did an almost imperceptible double take as he took in Marco's just-been-stabbed-with-a-kitchen-knife appearance, glancing at me with amusement before sending Marco a polite smile. "Of course, sir. Which champagne would you like? We have Veuve Clicquot, Moet and Chandon, Bollinger..."

Not choking on it, like me. Before it becomes an issue, I tear my eyes away from her mouth and focus on looking around for something to wash the sweetness of the chocolate away from my own mouth. "You like this, too? Champagne?" I ask when I grab the bottle Remington bought. He also bought a lot more alcohol for the whole camp, but he was adamant this has to be for Cassie. He was like: ‘oh this is the best of the best’. He's a real prick, but I trust his opinion on this.

Christian slipped his arm around my waist automatically, and we posed for what would be the first of many pictures. As the event went on, I realized we made a great team. Christian knew every technical detail about the wines, while I knew how to shape that information into something appealing for the target audience. Without even noticing, we were actually acting like owners of the place—but in a way that felt almost natural. In one of the more surreal moments, a fitness influencer insisted on demonstrating how to open a champagne bottle with a saber (something he had clearly never done before). The result was disastrous: the bottle practically exploded, spraying glass and champagne everywhe

“I hope you like Chardonnay, Lisa.” Natasha handed her a glass filled to the brim with a sparkling, golden liquid. “Sure, I love it,” Lisa replied. That was a lie. Lisa had never had alcohol before and this would actually be her first time. Reapers ate and drank the same food as humans but they were not really particular about what they ate which is why the sanctuary served bland, at times tasteless meals. Food was seen as the fuel that was essential to powering their bodies nothing more. Of course, there were reapers like Pix who liked to try out different things and ate exclusively in the human world, but Lisa didn’t share her friend’s palette. Pix had once tried to get Lisa to try some wh

"Champagne is meant to be sipped and savored, not gulped down teenage throats." "Maybe not. But it wasn't exactly Cristal we were drinking them, remember. It wasn't actually champagne-it was some kind of German sparkling wine. Whatever it was, it did the trick. Got us good and buzzed, which led to-" She stopped talking abruptly. "Anyway. Here-will you pop the cork, please? I usually end up breaking some of it into the bottle, which is a pain in the ass."