Always Lost and Never Found

・ﾟ: *✧  @lostbutnever-found

                                  The Gala had taken up most of the evening, one that had caused Tristan’s eyes to roll to the back of his head as once again —  Humphrey ( the Vice President of his father’s company ) was muttering something preposterous about the poor, and Monty was practically chewing beneath his fingernails in order to suck out the left over caviar. 

                  The Lockhearts were told to be on their best behaviour. Their father had pointed that out the moment they had arisen that morning. ‘There is no room for fights tonights, nor for you to act like spoilt brats.’ He had spat, chubby calloused fingers pointing at Tristan, Aurora, Humphrey and Eloise, before he had dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Though, it was rather hard not to behave like brats when it was the only way they were taught. 

                            Unlike the rest of his siblings, Tristan had managed to live among the ‘working class’ during his time at Oxford, and had contiuned to secretly help out at the elderly care home that was not far from the University. It was a job that caused his insides to melt, a pride and sense of achievement he had grappled at when he had received his first ever smile from an older woman who had lost her husband; she was just grateful that he had listened to her.  He was grateful that she had told him such a compelling story. Most of the time, he worries that he was not receive the same feeling when he takes over the family business. 

                                         Rising as the conversation took a turn towards politics, Tristan aimlessly wondered between the roaring laughter, and melodic trumping of jazz. A smile lulled itself onto his features as he spotted his angel in a room with Devils. 

                                                            Holly Andrews.                

                  A girl whose named had appeared scribbled in the back of his sketchpad since the day she had slipped into the brunch that was held by his family. The same girl who had held his heart in the palm of her hand, the one he had forgotten to tell his family he had broken up with… 

                                                                   “FUCK!”

             Making strides towards his ex, a smile plastered across his lips. At least his mother had not greeted her yet, if he had time - he could convince her to leave. “Holly, love.” His hands splay against her lower back, the tips of his fingertips digging into the material that had still not grown accustomed to, “May I have a word?” Turning his attention to the other people that had swarmed around the couple, his head tilts, “You don’t mind if I steal her, do you?”

               Galas were sometimes a hit or a miss. Some of the time there were some fun people at these things who she’d spend her time with, people she could drink with and make fools of themselves in some secluded part of whatever mansion they were in. Sadly though, this gala was one of the misses since it was a work gala for her father. 

               She loved her dad dearly and she always came to these things for him as he always reminded her how he needed to maintain a good public image which meant his family also had to look perfect and happy almost all the time too. It’s why she liked hanging out with other children of businessmen and prominent people within their society circle. They understood the life and they understood the downsides of it all. It’s why they always managed to sneak away out of the ‘public eye’ and party on their own so that their families reputations wouldn’t be hurt. 

                She kept searching the room, looking for familiar faces of her friends, but she was somehow always dragged into one boring conversation after another. The only thing that got her through each conversation was her practiced fake smile which she had plastered on for the whole night and her trusty champagne flute which she always made sure was full. She had a good buzz going and was putting on an award winning act of seeming like she was listening to the person talking to her. Her whole body instantly froze at the feel of fingers splayed on her lower back. When she saw the face that appeared next to her, it took all of her willpower to not roll her eyes and walk away. 

               Her brows rose so quick at the word love that she thought they would fall off. Her features were in a state of shock but still trying to smile as she stared at her ex-boyfriend, whose fingers were still digging into her back. “Yeah! Sure thing darling. Excuse us for a moment won’t you.” She turned back to the person who she’d been talking to and offered a warm smile as she turned back to face Tristan, downing her champagne flute in one gulp. “You better get those slimy fingers off my back before I break them, darling.” She spoke through gritted teeth, smiling tightly at him and wondering what game he was playing at. 

              They made their way through the place until she opened the door to a room, sighing in relief when she found it empty. She pulled Tristan inside and closed the door behind her, turning her narrowed eyes to him and gritting her teeth. “What is your deal? What’s going on? What’re you on? Don’t touch me again you hear?”

A. WHY MY LAST RELATIONSHIP ENDED.

B. FAVORITE BAND.

C. WHO I LIKE AND WHY I LIKE THEM.

D. HARDEST THING I’VE EVER BEEN THROUGH.

E. MY BEST FRIEND.

F. MY FAVOURITE MOVIE.

G. SEXUAL ORIENTATION.

H. DO I SMOKE/DRINK?

I. HAVE ANY TATTOOS OR PIERCINGS?

J. WHAT I WANT TO BE WHEN I GET OLDER.

K. RELATIONSHIP WITH MY PARENTS.

L. ONE OF MY INSECURITIES.

M. VIRGIN OR NOT?

N. FAVOURITE PLACE TO SHOP AT?

O. MY EYE COLOUR.

P. WHY I HATE SCHOOL.

Q. RELATIONSHIP STATUS AS OF RIGHT NOW.

R. FAVOURITE SONG AT THE MOMENT.

S. A RANDOM FACT ABOUT MYSELF.

T. AGE I GET MISTAKEN FOR.

U. WHERE I WANT TO BE RIGHT NOW.

V. LAST TIME I CRIED.

W. CONCERTS I’VE BEEN TO.

X. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF (…)?

Y. DO YOU WANT TO GO TO COLLEGE.

Z. HOW ARE YOU?