Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Mood | CHOCOLAT



She looked like subtle art. 
Covered in diamonds. The perception of a blind man. She was to attend another gala tonight, the 54th annual event of Monsieur Beaumont. Admiring her dress from the balcony window, she envisioned a night of tasteful music, expensive wine and guests with more money than they knew what to do with. Her winged liner was perfect and she knew that tonight she was out for the kill. A time where she did not come home with at least 10 new contacts on her phone? A time she never had to know. There wasn't a single soul in the small island of Monaco that did not yearn for her to bring life to a party. 
The dress was sheer for the most part, long but sheer, courtesy of Elie Saab. Long sleeved with a high neck, the pastel blue material covered every inch of her body. She paired it with a heavy round grey stone embellished necklace. Her hair was already slicked into a high bun, her red lipstick accurately applied. She did not wear any earrings. The attention was to be solely on the dress, it was too extravagant to risk taking any attention away from it. 
She arrived at the gala, late as per usual giving everybody some time to loosen up and enjoy the atmosphere. The music had already changed from mellow to enraging. Tense shoulders loosened and genuine smiles appeared. Taking it all in, she didn't notice the old man standing beside her, carefully observing the behaviour of humans removing their masks of mundanity, releasing their formality for the air to take away and finally becoming themselves once again. 

'You must be covered in diamonds. I can feel it in the air, there is something very special about you but I cannot put my finger on it. Care to share your secrets with a dying old man?'

'It must be my $2000 dollar shoes, they help me to dance better.'

'Darling I may be blind but I am no fool, it is more than that. If a blind man can sense your air of grace, it must be something you carry in your mind, no Givenchy purse or Valentino heels can do that. Arrogant enough to know that you are worth more than the thousand dollar d├ęcor present in this room, but modest enough to accept a compliment with grace. I like your balance, it is daring.'

'Monsieur Beaumont, it is nice to finally meet you.' 










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