THE SOCIALITE
Seven faces.
Well, six and a half faces. Four women -- three men. A couple partially empty bottles of champagne, pearl necklaces, and an empty chair in the foreground.
The couple on the left is the purest. They are truly in love and produce envy from onlookers because of their natural displays of affection. She looks right into the heart of the camera lens. She always does. Sure, she dresses nice to impress her peers and random passersby, but really, she does it for the photographs.
Her eyes truly are the window to her soul -- so transparent and open. It's those eyes that tell her story: where she's been, whom she's been with, what she's seen. Her eyes weave the tale of how she was born into wealth with everything in abundance. However, all these things she later grew to appreciate, and even love, were mere ways to coat her early years with as much gold and fine jewelry as possible in order to blind the poor girl.
From the minute she came into this world, her father had a strong affection for her. He loved her -- in every sense of the word. Although he was a very busy businessman with a small empire in the palm of his hand, he took the time to be the one there for his daughter. He would insist on changing her, bathing her, and putting her to sleep. But he did not do these things out of love as much as he did them out of desire. Before the girl had even developed a substantial memory, she had already endured things she would want to forget. Her father's hands were tools of disgust that would forever frame her as someone always drawing attention. He loved her red hair and those big, beautiful, deep green eyes. They saw everything he ever did. Sometimes they were glazed over with tears but they could always make out the blurred vision of subtle force joined with a smile.
As she grew older, her father showered her with gifts -- any and everything she wanted. At first, it was simply because he was in love with her. But as he continued this behavior, he realized that it seemed to make his daughter forget whatever unbearable things he would do to her in the night or when his wife was away. The girl never brought up the sexual encounters. She acted as if they had never happened. All she cared about was the attention. She got it at home. She got it at school. She even got it on the street. If she wasn't getting attention, something was wrong and she would run home to Daddy, who was always there to give her what she needed. The girl's mother was unaware of the two's relationship in the beginning. But one night, her building suspicions came to fruition.
It was Christmas Eve and the teenage girl was opening the presents designated for that night. Her father was drinking. He had just lost a dynamic piece of his empire. His wife was in the kitchen baking desserts and preparing for the following day. Wandering over to his daughter, he sat behind her on the ground. She was full of smiles and she revealed expensive gifts. After opening a diamond-encrusted necklace, she hugged her father. He squeezed her tight and kissed her ear. She went to pull away but the scotch-induced strength was overpowering. He kissed, and licked, and groped, and smiled. She stared at the necklace to take her mind off of it. Then the girl's mother entered and screamed. She was holding a knife. She dropped it and stood against the wall as her husband turned to see her. She questioned his actions through tears and he slowly approached. His secret was out. He picked up the knife and stood in front of his wife. The girl sat on the floor, watching it all. Her father told his wife that she would never be able to let his secret out. She promised to keep her mouth closed but this was not enough. He slit her throat and she fell to the ground. He turned around slowly and saw his daughter silently crying. Dropping the knife, he walked upstairs. A few minutes later, a gun blast echoed through the house.
Years went by and the girl came to be nothing less than a local sensation. She used her mass inherited wealth and status to demand attention from everyone around her. When she met her husband, it changed everything. He didn't pay as much attention to her as everyone else. She decided this is what she needed -- someone completely opposite her father. That way, there was a lesser chance of her past and volatile instability coming out. After all, she didn't want someone close to her to die because of overaffection. Everyone who knew her secrets was dead and she yearned for the companionship of someone normal. The veteran she married after knowing him two months was perfect. He had a simple life and an uncomplicated past. She had found someone who wouldn't read the fine print written on her cavernous eyes.
This is why she looks straight into the camera lens. This is why her eyes seem vast and endless. She still wears the pearls, still dresses up, still makes people turn their heads. She loves her husband. His normalcy is the perfect compliment to her disturbing past. She can't risk anyone learning of her secrets. If someone did, she would have to do exactly what she had seen her father do all those years ago.
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