Realistic or Modern secrets of emerald hills - ic

[monkeydoll555]

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  intro

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  physical

  
  
  
  

  olivia newton john

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  opening.

  
  
  
  

  A

  ugust 1987. London is in the grip of a stifling heat wave. As the mercury rises to near dizzying heights, it's not just the temperature that is reaching boiling point.
  
  At the outer reaches of London's most sought-after postcode sits Emerald Hill - the city's highly exclusive gated community. With its white marble swimming pools, state-of-the-art gym, lavishly built mansions and exquisitely manicured gardens, it is the stomping ground of London's rich and famous. Emerald Hill was established by the snobbish Mr. Addington just two years ago, whose dream was to create the most luxurious community with only the most desirable residents: a utopia for the elite.
  
  With his ear permanently to the ground, Mr. Addington considers it his personal responsibility to maintain continuous surveillance on all his residents, ensuring that his impeccably high standards are being met. He offers perfection and demands it in return. Failure to comply with his fifty-page residential code of conduct results in immediate expulsion. But where there's wealth and fame, scandal lurks not far behind - and Mr. Addington has uncovered something foul beneath the perfect facade of Emerald Hill.
  
  Under the pretense of a lavish dinner party, he has invited all the residents to his home. They find themselves in his dining room, feasting on fondue and Black Forest gateau, but Mr. Addington is nowhere to be seen. When his body is found lying on the marble floor of his en suite bathroom later that evening, it's evident that his death was no accident. As accusations begin to fly, it becomes clear that Emerald Hill's residents all have their own secrets, which they've gone to great lengths to hide. But who would go so far as to commit murder to avoid being exposed?
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
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  cast

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  cast.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  tiffany wilde

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  demenscous

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  heather jackson

  
  
  
  

  
  

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  faeriehollow

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  amber fox

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  wolfstar

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  annabelle weathers

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  Saracen_Rue

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  eugene baxter

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  partially-stars

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  christian easton

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  monkeydoll555

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  steven idol

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  youngiiie

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  keith malone

  
  
  
  

  
  

  played by

  
  

  Zombie.

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

intro

cast

welcome to

the emerald

hills

time

just about sundown

date

august 1987

location

emerald hills, london

status

closed

cs

lore

ooc

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[partially-stars]

'cause they see right through me

Eugene didn’t belong here. He fitted in just fine; an outrageously expensive outfit, his gift to the host a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine, and a name that people had heard about. But home to him was a two bedroom apartment in West Village, with a front door that stuck if the weather was too cold or too hot, wooden floors with the varnish half worn off them, and a fireplace that they couldn’t use because it would set off the fire alarm above their cooker otherwise. That had been home. But it was time to let it go. He’d sold it to a charity for a dollar, the sale purely to cover all the legal bullshit that people could try and use against them. Last he’d heard, it was being used for community meetings and to make sure everyone had a place to sleep that night.

Buying in Emerald Hills had mostly been driven out of a desire for something familiar. Even though he’d known that Robot Chase had been an international success, he’d hoped that maybe moving back to London might afford a bit more privacy. He’d been wrong, kids and adults alike recognising him and running up to him in the streets. All the same, he’d been regarded with suspicion the moment he had enquired about buying, a suspicion that didn’t fully alleviate even after he’d signed a cheque for the full amount without blinking an eyelid. Not by everyone, but by enough that he’d decided it was just easier to wear the fancy suits and buy the overpriced wine so people would stop looking at him like that. He’d been dodging the implications that he should throw a dinner party himself ever since he’d moved in, giving excuses about how he was still having the place furnished. It wasn’t a lie. The last arcade game had just been delivered, meaning the basement arcade was finally completed, but the sofa and armchairs had been delayed yet again. He didn’t care. He had beanbags galore in the basement and his office.

He’d made his house start to feel something like home. But Addington? His house felt like a goddamn museum. Eugene was almost afraid to touch things in case they turned out to be some priceless heirloom. Everyone else moved around the house so naturally, like they were used to navigating through mazes of artifacts. He wondered if this was how all the other houses in Emerald Hills were. Visually beautiful, but empty of soul and of personality. He took faith in knowing that his neighbours at least seemed to have more personality than Addington did. Perhaps he would be able to host those arcade tournaments in his basement. Without Addington, of course. That son of a bitch had made his thoughts about Eugene perfectly clear.

His brief… chat with Addington had left him feeling tense. Worried that everyone else would pick up on it, he’d decided that a few more glasses of wine were in order. That old bastard knew how to pick his wines, Eugene had to give him that much. He’d pretty much set up a permanent station in between the wine bottles and the fondue, finding that those two things almost made up for everything else. Almost made him forget everything else.

search

eugene baxter.

i godown on my knees
i start to pray
'til the tears run down from my eyes
can anybody find me somebody to love?

mood.

slightly tipsy

location.

addington's dining room

tag.

outfit

somebody to love by queen

© weldherwings.

 

[monkeydoll555]

playboy.

christian easton.

teen idle

location

mr addington's house

outfit

click me!

interactions

eugene baxter, annabelle weathers (mentioned), tiffany wilde (mentioned)

tags

partially-stars

Christian had been one of the first few to arrive at Mr. Addington's place.

Living next door to the maniac had its perks, he assumed. Even as he considered not going, he was reminded of what he owed to the man (most unfortunately). He hated it, absolutely hated the fact he had to rely on this man for the past two years. He reminded him, ever so much, of if his father and his stepmother had merged into a single person.

Nevertheless, he was here, nursing a whiskey, sitting on a couch far too grand for his tastes. As much as he joked about being the playboy one could never take home, the entire place reeked of new money tastes. He hadn't seen Anna or Tiffany yet, a little odd, considering Mrs. Weathers was usually always on time and Tiffany... well, Tiffany was usually always good with time as well. The only one he saw, as of current, seemed to be Eugene. He remembered him moving in a few houses down a few months ago, a nerdy, mysterious enigma. The only thing he knew fully about the man was his ability to code, and damn did he code well. He remembered a friend of his dragging him out of the house to check out the game. He sighed, remembering the simple euphoria of playing alongside what he considered a friend, feeling the childlike wonder of discovery.

But that was over now, a drizzle of joy that was overcome by the mask of carefree womanizing. Looking him over, he looked... neat. Nothing like the nerdy, oddballish type thing he would expect of a game developer. He looked... handsome.

He was quick to hiss, the word setting off a pavlovian effect in his brain. Handsome was a word he'd recatalogued a while back, one that he had to remark in his head as bad, after...

He shook away the very thought of the memory, deciding to get to his feet. He was lonely enough, maybe Eugene was lonely too. He slipped over to the wine first. It had never been his thing, wine, but a sip or two of that old geezer's finest would be more than fine by him, especially since it was all expenses paid. He spared a quick glance at Eugene, who seemed stationed between this and the fondue. Made sense, considering what he knew of developers. He slipped over to the fondue next, plucking a piece of toothpicked meat and letting the fondue run over it before popping it in his mouth. It was good, the fondue making it taste better than he was sure it actually was, but at least the fondue was delicious. He kept taking glances at Eugene, then back to the main part of the room. No one else, yet. He sighed, grabbing his half empty glass and taking a quick sip before finally moving to settle next to Eugene.

The quiet seemed to settle between them quickly, awkward and unnecessary as he gave a short, simple hello. It was the silence like the one that seemed to permeate all of the houses in this gated community, cold, impersonal, aloof. Much like Addington, come to think of it.

"Um... the game... it's really good." he mumbled, looking down into his glass, whiskey and melting ice. "I uh... tried it the other day, with a friend of mine I uh... I know everyone and their mother's probably talked you in circles about it but..." he sighed, taking another sip. "It's... it's a good game, is all." he breathed, his words now feeling more awkward than the silence ever did.

 

[demenscous]

wilde

;; tiffany

the click-clacking of heels echoed up the stairs to mr. addington’s abode. long, blonde hair in a tousled blowout paired with a satin black slip dress. it was no mystery who it was - dressed to the nines at all times, hiding behind a face full of makeup and luxe clothing. none other than tiffany wilde.

she wasn’t here because of mr. addington, though. she’s heard plenty of bad things about him, but the fact that she came would be ”good for publicity” according to workout warriors inc. to her, he was some asshole that she lived nextdoor to.

she hastily walked into the door, click-clacking growing faster. no time to mingle just yet - first, a drink. vodka. sixty four calories, zero carbs. literal rubbing alcohol.

she missed the sweet taste of red wine. the smoothness of it cascading down her throat, lighting a subtle fire in her chest. vodka was something you drink when you want to get drunk - not savory, not even in the slightest. but, red wine was a huge no-no. too much sugar, too many calories. it would throw her out of the deficit for the entire week.

decadence and glutton came with a price. all of her hard earned money solely relied on her having self control. to behave like an aerobics instructor. it’s something - though she was happier and more mentally stable, she promised and vowed herself to never go back to. she wouldn’t look back at her fat funny friend days. she hated them.

whatever she needed to do to stay in the good graces of workout warriors, she would do. they gave her everything. so she owed it to them, admittedly, to show up to this shitty party and do them a favor.

she sipped on her vodka soda as if it was red wine, whirling it lightly, observing the small ice cubes swish in the beverage, before two familiar faces came into her peripheral.

eugene, the man who was the outcast with her. he got her through childhood, where she would’ve needed therapy she had eugene. she always appreciated the fact that she wasn’t the only person who had come from being the childhood black sheep.

and then, there was christian easton. handsome as he could ever be. a local playboy of the sorts, but he was damned good at it.

she rose and walked to the pair, the as she smiled warmly to both of them.

approaching, she addressed eugene first. “oh eugene, it’s been a while!” she exclaimed softly, careful not to cause an echo. “i hope you’re doing well and i didn’t interrupt anything!”

her gaze then shifted to christian, as her cheeks flushed and she bit her lower lip slightly, smiling. “and if it isn’t the christian easton.” a slightly flirtatious note tainting her voice.

she sat next to the pair, swishing her vodka soda once again, a wide grin plastered on her scarlet red-stained lips.

coded by reveriee.

 

[youngiiie]

Steven Idol

The Tennis Prodigy

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  new mentions!

  
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Uninterested

Mansion

[/tab]

"Be careful who you call a God"

“Steven, talk to us about your recent ride to stardom. After all, you’ve made London the talk of the tennis world with your win.”

“Thank you for the question! All I can say is that it has been such a dream come true to be able to represent London by playing a sport that is so dear to my heart. As-“

a son of two hard working immigrant parents it has been such an honor to make them proud, he finished reciting in his head.

With a roll of his eyes, Steven shut off the television. He knew his talking points by heart and it made him nauseous hearing the same lines over and over again. As if it hadn’t been enough preparing for all of the interviews, he now had to hear his voice everywhere he went. He couldn’t walk through town without one of his interviews, commercials, or talk show appearances playing on an old television in the window.

The tennis prodigy had never been in it for the fame, he had wanted to play the sport he loved so much as a child and pay off the sacrifices his parents made. There was big financial opportunities in tennis and Steven worked harder than anyone to become the best of the best. Now that he was at the height of his career, he was more miserable than ever. He hated being in the spotlight and he hated the facade he had to put on. He was London’s sweetheart. The hardworking, charming tennis prodigy that showed hard work did pay off. He was meant to be the attractive boy next door type because that is what sold cereal boxes and toilet paper.

That couldn’t be farther from who he was. Steven’s lips were pursed with frustration as he fiddled with the buttons on his suit. He had gotten it adjusted and measured at one of the finest menswear shops in London. When Mr. Addington invited you to a party, you showed up. Even if you really really really did not want to. He had a particularly persuasive way of getting the residents of Emerald Hills to attend his events. Despite his active disdain for the older male, Steven couldn’t refuse. Instead, he showed his active disdain for the ordeal by choosing to purposefully arrive fashionably late. Finnian would never pass on a chance to irritate Mr. Addington if only to protest the unfortunate situation he found himself in. Not enough to be tossed out with the trash, but enough that when Mr. Addington thought of him, he would hopefully clench his jaw with disgust.

As the expensive looking male approached Mr. Addington’s residence he couldn’t help but marvel at the epitome of luxury that was the older gentleman’s house. Despite his feelings for Mr. Addington, Steven could not deny that he was the king of Emerald Hills. His house made his own look like a worn down studio deep in the dark depths of the city. The tennis prodigy could t help but feel a twang of jealousy. He wanted to be that rich one day. He was certainly on the right path if his perfectly tailored suit was any indication but greed is never satisfied.

Opting not to knock, Steven opened the heavy front door to Mr. Addington’s mansion and walked right in. His footsteps echoed down the hall as he nonchalantly walked toward the living room. He hoped that the party would be lovely enough that he could sit in the shadows and enjoy his drink alone. Despite his cheerful persona for the cameras, Steven was quite the polar opposite. He walked into the room the guests were gathered in with a rather neutral expression. He neither appeared happy nor sad. Not even angry. Just uninterested. To his dissatisfaction, it appeared only three other guests had arrived before him.

So much for being late, he thought in his head.

Steven made note of the three guests that had come early. There was Eugene, a man that Steven had only met briefly before. Other than that he got rich off of building a game, Steven knew next to nothing about him. Then there was Christian. They quite often stood on opposite sides of the tennis court at the country club. They would chit chat, play a couple matches, and go their separate ways. Steven gave his tennis partner a small nod of acknowledgment. Lastly, there was Tiffany Wilde. She was as beautiful in person as she was on television. However, there was something about her that rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe he believed she wasn’t genuine or maybe he believed her program to be a sham. Either way, he didn’t care enough to fully explore that thought.

Steven made his way past the three conversing guests and mumbled something to the bartender. The bartender gave a curt nod in response and soon Steven had an expensive glass of wine in his hand. He made a point to walk right past the three talking to go sit down by himself in a plush chair by the corner of the room. Steven wasn’t one for small talk when it came to strangers and acquaintances. He was a lot more vibrant with his dear friends but the whole situation of their meeting had put him in an ill mood. He had a small pout as he drank his wine, praying that a meteor would fall out of the sky and put him out of his misery.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

youngiiie

 

[Saracen_Rue]

housewife.

Annabelle Weathers.

Uptown Girl

location

Mr. Addington's Home

outfit

click me!

interactions

Eugene Baxter (mentioned), Christian Easton (mentioned), Tiffany Wilde (mentioned), Steven Idol (mentioned)

tags

partially-stars monkeydoll555 demenscous youngiiie

If she had to be honest with herself, which she wasn't entirely, Annablle Weathers wasn't exactly looking forward to this damned party at 'Mr. Addington's. Furthermore if she had to be honest, she never liked him to begin with, not like she ever hid that fact, only truly ever being polite to him directly, and kept about in his good graces as she could to continue living in Emerald Hills with her family. The latter part of which were the only honest truth of why she stayed there. The kids. Everything else? Well, fuck that. But now, now was time for impressions, and those were the most important part. To be punctual and on time as she always was? Maybe, but where was the fun in that? Besides, she didn't want to be alone in that damned house with Addington longer than she would have liked, let at all. Or, she could always do something new and be fashionably late? That would certainly throw the others for a loop, wouldn't it? That would indeed be something else. And in all honesty, it would be nice for once to try something new, or well, old, but just not something she was free to do on her own accord. Fredderick had enough to say about being on time and having to keep up appearances.

Speaking of which, Fredderick...Oh bless him. He was out of town once again, with some damned job related something or another, he didn't exactly take the time to explain it to Annabelle, he never did. Which she honestly appreciated. The more he left her alone, the better. Well, not entirely alone. She had her three children still, after all. All three of which were at their friends for the rest of the week, which meant she had the literal rest of the house to herself, and she could actually focus and get some things done around the place. And within just roughly six hours, the entire house was cleaned, organized, cleaned again, and then...well, she was done. Which only left three hours before this damned party. Was it still too early to call it off? Probably. Besides, if anything did go down there, she would want to be there for herself, nothing was better than whatever hot gossip was going around the residents in Emerald Hill, after all.

Just roughly 30 minutes past the start of said party, Annabelle found herself making the rather short walk from her home to that of Mr. Addington's, three aluminium foil wrapped items tucked neatly in her hands. What else was better than home made baked goods, right? Right. Banana bread, cranberry bread, and pumpernickle, whatever the hell that was. Did Annabelle know? Absolutely the hell not, but it sounded interesting, and she would be damned if she didn't at least try it once. And in her honest opinion? It turned out alright in the end. Those, and an unopened bottle of wine, picked specifically from her husband's collection. Would he notice? Probably not. And she'd prefer to keep it that way, but if he realized one of his claimed to be favored bottles of his collection to be missing well, she'd be able to use the excuse of wanting to impress Mr. Addington, no less. That'd be enough.

And now, well, now Belle found herself sitting on one of the all too lavish couches in Mr. Addington's estate. Even by her standards this was all just a bit much. How did someone this damned old ever get his hands on this stuff anyway? Well, that question sort of answered itself, didn't it? Yeah, yeah it did. Even with being a bit late, there was still barely anyone else here, other than the faces she had expected to see, at least for the most part. She hadn't seen Heather yet. But after giving a quick 'Hello' to Addington and a few others, and making miserable small-talk with some of the other uppity folk, Annabelle quickly downed the shitty wine that was being offered, and even that hadn't been enough to quell her truthfully annoyed mood.

The conversation had gone exactly as she pictured it would have, Addington going on and on, and fucking on about how he acquired half of this artifacts in his home. Says the oldest artifact in this damn place, how old even was he anyway? After she had managed to somehow escape the ever boring conversation, not much thanks to some other poor soul being dragged into the droning, did Belle manage to slip away. Scanning the room for any familiar faces to help lift her spirits, and she did, almost immediately. Except, it was now a trio of familiar faces, Christian, Eugene, and Tiffany.

'Oh nope, nope, nope. Gonna just go this way-' Belle practially turned on her heels in a complete 180, without somehow busting her ankle and began to walk in the exact opposite direction. As much as she would have been delighted to say her hellos, she knew better than to intrude. Besides, they looked to be having a completely normal conversation between the three of them already, they didn't need her barging in. Belle gave a small wave and smile to Christian as she had managed to catch his eyes. Giving him the old and familiar 'I'll be over here' Annabelle special, and made herself comfortable, plopping down into one of the couches, swinging one of her legs over the other and sighed, having grabbed another glass of shitty wine on her way over and to her thoughts.

 

[youngiiie]

Steven Idol

The Tennis Prodigy

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  new mentions!

  
  tag! put your tags here!!
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

Uninterested

Mansion

[/tab]

"Be careful who you call a God"

Steven wasn’t really one for friends. Sure, he had a few but by and large he was more of the loner type. He enjoyed the peace and comfort of his own company. Especially now that he had so many young women screaming at his tennis matches, the peace and quiet was much welcome. The same applied for his day to day life in Emerald Hills. While he knew of every resident that was fortunate enough to call Emerald Hills their home, he only really knew a couple of them and even that was a stretch.

The entire extent of his relationship with Christian was on the tennis court or occasionally the curt conversation by the water refill station. With Mr. Addington, there was certainly no love lost between them. Steven always made it clear how much he detested the older male while Mr. Addington seemed to take great pleasure in intruding into Steven’s life. Then there was Annabelle. His eyes watched her as she moved across the room. First toward Christian, Tiffany, and Eugene… and then awkwardly to the couch. The corner of his soft lips lifted into a small smirk. Bless her heart. Steven felt closer to Annabelle than to most of the Emerald Hills residents. They would drink wine in his garden or he would join her for dinner at her house if she cooked. His favorite activity to partake in with the older woman was gossiping about their neighbors.

While he seemed cold and distant on the outside, Steven was actually quite lively once you got to know him. He could rant for hours about how a woman looked at him the wrong way and why that means she’s getting a divorce or how the mailman actually has a huge crush on Annabelle because he always places her newspaper on the ground instead of throwing it. However, when it was gossip about Freddy, that’s when Steven really came alive. It was no secret that he actively hated Annabelle’s husband. He didn’t like that Fred seemed to forget Annabelle existed when he went on trips or stuck her with the kids so he could do “political” things, whatever that meant.

He watched Belle from afar and took a small sip of his drink. Maybe now would be a good time to go make conversation. While at times he could be distant, he was never indecisive. If he chose to sit away from everyone else, it’s because he wanted to and he didn’t think twice on it. Without hesitation, he got up, wine glads in hand, and sauntered over to the beautiful couches by Annabelle. He made a mental note of the brand so that he could have the same ones installed in his own living room. He cleared his throat to alert his friend to his presence and took a seat opposite of her.

“How is Freddy these days? Oh wait, let me guess... traveling for business?” Steven said, crossing his arms and cocked a brow as if challenging Annabelle to surprise him by saying otherwise. It truly was none of Steven’s business but he was never one to hold his tongue. Especially when it came to Annabelle’s husband.

The tennis prodigy was still in a sour mood as evident by his constricted and uptight body language. He wasn’t hiding at all that he didn’t want to be there. However, he allowed his body to relax when talking to Annabelle. She could be the one person that got him through the night without him wanting to drown himself in wine. He had nothing against any of the others, in fact, maybe he would’ve been a lot more friendly had they not all been convening under such unfortunate circumstances. Whenever Me. Addington invited him to any of his events, Steven was always extremely tense. He didn’t know what to expect and he wasn’t going to let his guard down.

/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

youngiiie

 

[monkeydoll555]

playboy.

christian easton.

teen idle

location

mr addington's house

outfit

click me!

interactions

tiffany wilde, eugene baxter, annabelle weathers (mentioned), steven idol (mentioned)

tags

demenscous , partially-stars , Saracen_Rue , youngiiie

This was it. This was how he was going to die.

He hadn't even noticed Tiffany coming up to his side, the silence between Eugene and himself disorienting enough for just about anyone to slip in and out of it, and Tiffany, brilliant woman she was, had managed to slip right in. He turned to her, a soft smile on her face as her flirtation shone through.

"And if it isn't the Tiffany Wilde." he flirted back, eyes shining only slightly as he glanced to her lips first, a beautiful scarlet color, then the glass in her hand. Of course she would be drinking nothing but water, or so he presumed. The one thing he could tell, though, is that she was having a good time, and that was all that mattered. He smirked, ready to tease her in an instant.

"Me and Eugene were just hanging around, waiting for you, you know? And don't tell me you're drinking just water right now. The old geezer's literally letting us drink all of his expensive shit for free. At least one glass of something good is something we all deserve." he suggested, giving her a glance. It was one he had given her many times before. He wanted to make sure she was ok first, before he said or did anything that might hurt her.

He heard the doors to the house open twice, glancing up both times. He saw first Steven Idol, winner of the latest Hart Cup, and an acquaintance of his at the tennis courts. Nothing much to say about him, but he hadn't entirely realized he'd been a neighbor. The next person he'd seen, of course, was mo- Mrs Weathers. He smiled. The woman had always been close to him, ever since he was little. He gave her a bright smile, a polite wave, and as soon as her location was ascertained, he checked it off in his head and returned to his naturally flirtatious state. "So, you think anyone else is gonna make an appearance tonight?" he asked, half teasing, half questioning. He wasn't quite sure about the guest list, but he figured everyone in residence would be invited. Whether they would arrive, however, was a much different story.

 

[partially-stars]

'cause they see right through me

The sudden presence of somebody nearby startled Eugene out of his thoughts. It took him a moment to place the name. Christian Easton. All Eugene had heard about him was that he was filthy rich, and loved spending that money in plenty of ill-advised ways. The womaniser king of Emerald Hills, by all accounts. And yet… the man standing in front of Eugene didn’t quite match the mental image he’d had of him. In fact, he looked like he felt just as awkward as Eugene did when he took the empty seat next to him. In this close proximity, it was impossible to deny Christian’s good looks. That type of effortless beauty where Eugene knew he’d probably never had to worry about his hair in his life.

The compliment about the game caught Eugene off guard. He smiled almost reflexively, the perfect PR smile he’d perfected. “Thanks. I spent far too many late nights working on it instead of sleeping, so I’m glad it paid off.” Jesus, why had he said the last part? That was just confirming his status as an awkward nerd. There was nothing he could add to that that wouldn’t make the situation worse, so instead, he just smiled a wry smile and took another mouthful of his drink.

Tiffany appeared then, almost unrecognisable from the girl he’d been in school with. She still acknowledged him with that same warmth and familiarity. At her mention of hoping she wasn’t interrupting anything, though, he had to fight off a frown. It’s entirely possible she’d heard- after all, back in New York, there was seldom a protest or a pride he’d missed, even if he hadn’t outright said it all that much in public. But this was Tiffany they were talking about; it wouldn’t be like her to allude to it in such a way in a situation like this.

And then, just like that, the conversation turned to flirting, and Eugene decided it was time for another glass of wine. Or maybe something stronger. The strongest thing he could find, to burn away the grief.

It wasn’t just the grief over Michael. It had been two years, and instead of being a tidal wave that threatened to drown him whenever it caught him off guard, or even when he was braced for it, it ached in the same way the ankle he’d broken when he was ten did when it rained. Not enough to stop him from carrying on, but present and painful whenever it reared its head. No, it wasn’t just the grief of love lost, it was grief over a life he knew he couldn’t have. Being able to walk into a party and just start flirting with whoever he thought was handsome. He’d come to terms with being gay a long time ago. He just wished that the world would catch up.

He’d spotted Annabelle come in, and had hoped that maybe he could catch up with her. But as he searched the room for her, her attention had already been caught by Steven. That wasn’t a conversation he particularly wanted to be in either. He and Steven had crossed paths a few times in the past, always through Michael, and right then, Eugene really didn’t want to talk to anyone who could bring him up. He was trying to keep a low profile, and he was really, really trying to not feel like such an awkward dork. If Steven asked him anything about his old life, Eugene wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up the mask.

Somehow, playing third wheel really did seem more appealing. So he made sure to fill his wine glass generously, before making his way back to Christian and Tiffany, just in time to hear Christian muse about whether or not anyone else would appear.

““Who else is there to come? Isn’t the best of Emerald Hills here already?” Eugene remarked as he sat back down. ““Especially given old Addington himself hasn’t made an appearance yet,” he added, more quietly this time. He raised his eyebrows at Tiffany and Christian and smiled around his wine glass.

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eugene baxter.

i go down on my knees
i start to pray
'til the tears run down from my eyes
can anybody find me somebody to love?

mood.

slightly tipsy

location.

addington's dining room

tag.

outfit

somebody to love by queen

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