be still

The only reason why Riley was at this social event was because his father practically forced him out of his bedroom just so he could socialize with people who barely care about his well-being and only for his image. Although Riley didn’t have the guts to say it to his father, but he actually disliked the lifestyle he brought up to live in. He disliked the prestigious social gatherings, the unrealistic expectations, and certainly the mannerisms of everybody else. Although this party wasn’t necessarily about him, the party was a celebration of his father’s five year anniversary for the city’s country club. His mother used the event to show off her brand new wedding dress design that other women would simply have a second wedding just to show off. As for Riley, he was there to support his father, even though he attempted to stay as far away as he could. 

From elderly women who wanted to know all about the family’s personal life to simply gossip about to girls around his age wanting to go on dates with him, Riley figured that he it was time to actually follow the theme of the party; which was a masquerade party. He held onto his decoy model of some famous roman-like mask throughout the night, but then he scurried over to a corner of the room to tie the mask around his face and took off his black coat and hung it over a random chair, he walked around the party floor in a long sleeved white dress shirt, a black neck tie, and a silver vest. 

After multiple minutes of simply walking around the party floor, he liked that people barely talked to him. Although he wanted to leave the party, he felt as if he could somewhat relax. He looked around to find a place to sit and smoke a cigarette and found an empty seat next to some lonely boy. As thought nothing of it, he slowly walked over to the empty seat and beamed down  at the boy, “May I sit here?” He asked as he took out a cigarette from his pocket. His voice was low but smooth and flowed perfectly like a cherry blossom down a river.

Having spend the last twenty minutes of his night people-watching the party, Jamie had noticed the man long before he approached him. He was tall and held himself like any rich boy would at their parent’s party, back straight and proud as he had talked to other guests. Jamie hadn’t thought him particularly interesting and swept his eyes passed him without a second glance, but as the stranger smiled at him, Jamie knew that had been a mistake. A significant portion of his face was covered by his mask, but there was no mistaking how handsome he was, with sharp features Jame’s fingers itched to draw from an artistic standpoint. 

Jamie shook his head in response to the man’s request, gesturing for him to go ahead. “I like your mask,” he offered politely but genuinely, his voice soft and a small smile curling on his lips. His own itched on his nose and behind his ears, but even still he didn’t want to take it off. It was unlikely anyone would recognize him with it on, and that made Jamie feel just a little bit braver being so out of his element. He wasn’t even particularly worried about his accent giving him away-- he had likely never spoken to anyone at this party before with the exception of Jillian, and his French accent was nowhere near as pronounced as it had been when he first came to New York four years ago. “Are you having fun tonight?”

The drive to the party was what Jamie assumed would be the highlight of his night. Jillian was eager to hear all about his project and how he was doing in school, happily swiping through the gallery on his phone of his WIPs and showering him with praise-- he could smell wine on her breath, and wine-Jillian was always a notch nicer than the rest. He knew once they were at the party she’d abandon him to drink and socialize with her friends, and he’d have to find a corner to discreetly hide in until she decided it was time to go home.

He was completely right. Within minutes of arriving, Jillian had flounced off into the large crowd, leaving Jamie to divert to the outskirts, following the wall as best he could. Finally he found a break in the crowd, a small alcove a few feet away from any present party-goers decorated with fairy-lights and roses. Jamie sat down with a soft sigh, resigning himself to a night of people-watching.