#enyc.event01

This wasn’t the last place Leo wanted to be at. It was a Masquerade. How timeless and niche, and Leo adored timeless and niche. He liked it enough to choose the black and gold leather mask, shaped and painted as a lion and its’ mane. But when he began to read the details and realized it was for charity, he was immediately put off. He was possessive over his hard earned money, over his wife’s hard earned money, to give it away in a way that didn’t serve him directly.

 Was I a bad person? Leo thought, leaning against the table some more as he stared hard at the blank space beside the dollar sign. He was suppose to donate. It was good to donate. And definitely was the better choice between volunteering and donating. Especially to a group that had tried to help him when he was growing up in the system. But still look at where all the help had got him. He turned to the nearest person next to him, his eyes making a show to glaze over their mask as he took their appearance in. Then he took a glance at their respective donation slip. “Hey, do you think five dollars is enough?” He chimed.

setting: the main hall, during the secrets reveal

Bunny knew many people viewed her as vapid. Gossip hungry, catty, judgemental, calculated ( well, calculated, that part was true) - but she derived not an ounce of pleasure as her phone vibrated with text after text of dirt in the chat. Dirt on the other guests, some unknown to her as she read through their intimate mistakes. No, Bunny knew with each buzz she was closer to her potential demise. She was going to be next. Guests gathered, all looking at their phones and at each other, mouths agape like fish without water. The model had wanted nothing all night but to rip off her rabbit mask - but now she didn’t dare touch the lace. God, she regretted the bunny ears.

Her vision blurred, dark eyes already glazing with tears as the blue light shone against her face. Her champagne flute was clutched tightly in her hand, bubbles fizzing as it shook. We’re they fucking saving her for last or something? Voices were rising in arguments as the message finally appeared on her screen. Couldn't make it big yourself so you just had daddy do it for you, hmm, Bunny Hendrix?  Don't let her fool you, her father paid for her first editorial! 

“NO!” Bunny gasped, dropping her glass, holding her phone with both hands tightly. “No, that isn’t true! I wouldn’t--, I’d never--...e-everything, everything I have gotten has been on my own!” Bunny didn’t even know who she was shouting at, wide eyes still glued to her screen. Of all the things they could have scraped up on her, this fabrication was somehow the worst. She had to call Vanity Fair, they had to make a statement. She had to call her agent, her father-- no. She couldn’t even breathe, much less focus on regaining control. Bunny dropped both hands to her sides, taking deep harsh breaths. “Who...Who did this?” She choked out, turning around to look at anyone around her.

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀.

Matthieu Dixon wearing Givenchy and Louboutin for the MET GALA.