closed starter for @77343
it was strange to see generosity look so expensive. everything glittered - chandeliers, the dress that was clinging to her curves, the champagne glasses, diamonds sitting cold against women's throats, silent auction tables lines with things no one in the room actually needed, but seemed too willing to overpay for. even the smiles looked polished and sparkly with a practiced til of the head and the careful little laugh. she hated it a little. she hated that she fit in so well, practiced laughter along with a group of people old enough to be her grandparents and an attitude problem that left no room to be taken advantage of.
mona was working - technically. she had a notebook tucked into the smallest handbag known to man, a running list of names in her phone, and three different reminders from her editor that all basically said the same thing. get the clothes, get the quotes, get the mood. easy enough, in theory. she was just gathering color for a digital recap, tracking who wore what, making note of the best looks, and maybe pulling together something short for the app if the night produced anything interesting enough to justify it.
it wouldn't, unless vogue wanted six hundred words on rich men explaining philanthropy or a quote from woman dressed head to toe in archival prada about the importance of giving back while wearing earings that could have funded the entire youth program twice over. she made a note in her phone that said great dress. impossible quote. ask photo team for full length.
by the time she made it to the edge of the of the ballroom, she was desperate for air and something stronger than champagne, but her eyes find someone huddled alone in a corner that her editor had been set on getting a quote from. she didn't get it, frankly, and she said as much approaching him. "what's so special about you? why is my editor convinced you're the only interesting thing here?"
