gluttony.

Charlie’s eyes flash down to her dress for a moment. “Insulting my clothing and offering to impart your wisdom of fashion all in one swoop. Not sure if I should be offended or appreciative.” She grins, teasing. “That a promise?” 

“Honey, to get advice from me for free is something to be grateful about.” She winked. “Only if you promise after tonight you’ll burn that monstrosity on your body.”

ian grimaced as he downed what probably was either his fourth or fifth drink. he probably needed to start pacing himself if he wanted to make it through the night and remember what happened. the whole thing was just… awkward. he tapped his fingers on the high-top table, turning to the person standing nearby. “so—” he mumbled, trying to break the ice, “you think the 49ers will make it to the superbowl?”

she would recognize that irritating voice anywhere and it just so happens the moment she stepped away from emily she found herself standing beside the father of her friend’s twins. scarlett refrained from telling him to shut up because this was a classy event and she already yelled at someone for stepping on her dress so the least she could do was be civil for the rest of the night. “i don’t care about football,” she responded, drinking from her (third? fourth?) glass of wine. “your suit looks nice though.”

Charlie dead stares her for a moment, wondering just what this woman did for a living. She’d make a point to ask later. She watches in amusement as the cape is inspected. “Breath, darlin’.” She says as Scarlett pulls off her mask. “Mm, me either. A shame to hide that pretty face.” 

Scarlett smirked as she tossed her mask onto table beside her. “There’s no point in hiding behind that. I’m not the author. At least people will see me.”

“Am I? Well, that’s reassuring,” Emily said, letting out a laugh. “Thank you for convincing me to come. I never would have if it weren’t for you.” She had originally planned on having a quiet evening at home, but it was nice to get out for once. Once the babies were born, she knew she wouldn’t have much time for that. “Who said princesses can’t wear black?” She pointed out, gesturing to Scarlett’s gown. “That’s quite a compliment. It’s your doing though since you bought me the dress. There’s no way I would have picked it out for myself.” 

“Trust me, sweetheart. There’s no way I’m a princess.” Scarlett scoffed but not before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair away from Emily’s face. “That’s better,” she spoke under her breath. “Do you wanna dance with me? And show every other bastard in here what they’re missing?”

“You can bet that I’ve been trying my hardest.” Catalina said, looking around the room. “Though I don’t think that most of the people in this room could figure it out though.” She shrugged, turning back to her drink. “Though the women, absolutely.” The brunette smiled into her drink as she took a sip.

“Do you have any theories?” Scarlett inquired, as she quickly figured out who her company was. “And is there a possibility I can have a cameo on a future episode?”

She chews on her lip as Scarlett speaks wondering how two people could be so different. “Mhm, that’s if you want to make one at all. Some of us would rather stay to the wayside. Attention has never really been a friend.” She laughs gently at the last comment. “I think it took me 10 minutes to get ready. Aside from finding a store that sells this damn thing.” She taps a finger against the mask. 

Adina Kaufman craved the spotlight, and by proxy Scarlett learned to love it too. She understood that by getting attention, she had the ability to obtain anything and anyone she wanted. “I’ll have to take you shopping one day. Proper shopping, because we cannot let this,” she gestured with her index finger top to bottom to the other’s dress, “happen again. But it’s okay, stick with me sweetie, and you’ll get the city figured out.”

“Can you imagine a party without drinks? God I’d need to bang my head against a wall just to get through regular conversation.” Her eyes fall to her dress then back up to meet the other woman’s. “Well, “ she trails off thinking for a moment. “Pretty sure that was when I bought this damn thing. Not much for the prettier side of fashion.” She gestures to her dress smiling. “That though… something to behold. you look wonderful.” 

That’s a little extreme, Scarlett thought to herself at the initial brunette’s statement. While drinks made events such as these a little more bearable but she would never go to the lengths of injuring herself if none were provided. It would leave a ghastly scar, and she wouldn’t dare add another one to herself after her wine glass incident. “Honey, your appearance is what makes the first impression. If you were to make a statement here at the masquerade ball, you don’t know whose eye you’ll catch.” Scarlett barely reacted to the compliment; surely it would be one of several she would receive that evening. “Thank you--it only took me a little under an hour to get ready.”

“Yes, me again. I’ve managed to convince myself that staying may be worth while.” Charlie almost steps in front of her, expecting another minor assault. “Nope, never thought you were.” she said very unconvincingly “Five-Hundred? Dare I ask how much the whole damn thing costs?” She probably didn’t even want to know. 

“Honey, you don’t want to know. But let’s just say it would be enough for two months of paying off my Rolls Royce.” Scarlett further inspected the cape, cursing when she saw a little footprint dust on the lace. “Fuck! Okay--it’s not that big of deal--it’s not like anyone could even see out their damn masks.” And with that Scarlett removed hers and fixed her hair. “That’s better. Don’t know what the damn point of these things are anyway.”

People watching was something that she’d always been good at - something she’d grown more comfortable with than actually speaking to people - so, when a black cape passes her line of sight she fallows it to it’s wearer. A sight in itself was she. The woman came to a stop as a foot catches her dress and Charlie can’t stifle the smile at the immediate reaction from the woman.  She takes a step back away from the offending hand bag as it makes contact with the dress stepper. “Whoa whoa, Think they got the picture.” Maybe she should have stayed out of it, but she doubted the author needed more cannon fodder. 

Turning toward her ‘savior’ (a term she used lightly because she wasn’t nearly done with the culprit), she took a breath and stepped back. “Oh, it’s you again.” Scarlett smoothed out the front of her dress, but not before jutting toward the cape-ruiner as if she would attack again. “I wasn’t going to hurt them. Just teach them a lesson. If I had it my way, I’d have him pay for that section of the dress. Like $500 maybe?”

Scarlett wore a very similar style of dress for her wedding as she was wearing for the ball tonight. Of course, instead of black she wore the color of purity. Her black cape was long enough to resemble the train of a wedding gown, and if color was any indication of how her marriage was going to end she would have worn this to the ‘joyous occasion.’ 

She felt a slight tug on her dress, and when she turned she saw that someone had stepped on the cape. “Asshole! Move--this is a Zac Posen. Can’t say that your outfit is made of the same quality. Fucking polyester jerk.” Without hesitation, she took her handbag and hit the other person with it.

Emily wasn’t sure if she would attend the masquerade ball at first, considering parties weren’t really her thing. She looked for an excuse to not go, and she couldn’t use work for once because she actually had the night off (even though she was technically supposed to be on maternity leave but decided against it for a few more weeks). After convincing from Scarlett, she finally decided to go and wore the dress she had bought for her. “You promise I’m not cramping your style, right? I can’t drink and I’ll probably be ready to leave by ten o’clock,” Emily said, letting out a laugh. “You look amazing, by the way. That dress is gorgeous.” 

@sdohertys​

“Babe, the only way you’d cramp my style is if you didn’t come with me. You’re fucking 100% better than 80% of the people in this very room.” Including Darcy who--while she sent him a suit for the ball--she was still very upset with. She flipped her hair over her shoulder before looking down at her dress again. Black is better suited for you and your wide hips, Scarlett Marina, she could hear her mother say. “Don’t you think so? I figured instead of looking like a princess, I’m better suited for the Wicked Witch,” she joked, chuckling. “But you, sweetie--you’re beautiful. You look like Goddess of the Earth or some shit like that, and you’re not even showing that much cleavage. Kinda proud of you for making it out tonight.”

Catalina didn’t look away from the glass in front of her. She recognized the voice, and she smiled. “I don’t think anyone is more intrigued than I am Scarlett.” She threw back the shots whenever they were handed to her, spinning to face the other. “Honestly, I’m expecting an incel.”

“I wouldn’t doubt that you, me, and whoever else is here could probably figure the culprit out ourselves.” Not that guy over there who looks very shamelessly with a girl in a green dress, she observed. “I bet with a group of intelligent, beautiful women--they could get away with murder. It’s really frustrating just sitting around doing nothing.”

Catalina was beyond nervous. She didn’t know what was going to happen at the ball, yet she was there. She claimed it was an investigation, but was it really? Of course, she wanted to know who was the one to ruin so many lives, but she also was interested in what kind of party would be thrown. The brunette walked to the open bar, ordering herself a double shot of tequila, throwing it back. “Another one.”

“You read my mind,” Scarlett said, watching the other brunette knock back some booze. She waved her hand to the bartender who proceeded to fix her another drink. “Any party that has an open bar you can find me at. But the intrigue of this whole fuckin’ shindig being run by, probably a very lonely creep, is high.”