.Call me when your sober [Jyn]

Subject: .Call me when your sober [Jyn] Sat Nov 20, 2010 3:54 pm

I never have liked these sort of things. Dinner parties are boring and just underhanded ways for my grandmother to try and get me to meet some of the men she thinks are good suitors. I hate having the thoughts of marriage shoved down my throat. Really not in the mood for any of it. I did my job by going to the Halloween Party at Da Hype. What more did she want now. Not in the mood for her power games. I have had enough of men right now. I have Penny in my life to listen to me bitch. He's become a good friend and trusted ally.

I sip at my wine. Its from the family cellar. Well aged. A rich red wine that is not dry. Looks like grandmother is trying to place me in a good mood. Never a good sign for me. I saunter out onto one of the private balconies, escaping the party for a moment. I lean my hip against the stone railing, sipping once more from the wine glass. My eyes take in the twilight hour. The sun has only just set, the sky deepening to a purplish blue. This is one of my favorite times to watch the sky. As day is forced to relinquish its hold on the land as night dominates the world. My eyes flick a bit more up, the stars beginning to flicker into sight.

I sigh softly. Alone with this scene. I did not bring Penny tonight. I saw no point. It would look rude if I brought my guard to such a small affair. My free hand moves to rest across my body, my hand coming to rest on the other side of my hips. I can feel the fine material of my dress beneath my manicured fingertips. I live in a life of expensive taste and luxury. I never asked for it. I was simply born into it. People would call this a lucky draw for my soul. But I have only ever felt trapped here. My eyes lower from the sky to the wine glass in my hand. Its the same shade of crimson as my dress. Like freshly split blood. Makes sense. I'm like a lamb being offered to the slaughter each time I attend one of these parties. But they are meant to help me in the corporate world. Establish connections. But all I see is the lusting eyes of the old men and the greedy eyes of their sons. It sickens me greatly. But the mask is forced into place. I smile. I mingle. I am the butterfly flitting along and blending into with my surrounds while at the same time luring them to follow me.

I feel the faint movement of my wings on my back. No one can see them. I can control how visible they are. But those without an awareness for the spiritual cannot not see them at all. Least I'm positive they cannot. Another sigh slips from my lips and I tighten my arm around my form, as if to hug myself and reassure that all will be fine. but how long must I play this role?

-532