Post by d8 dorothy hope [frankel] on Dec 8, 2018 10:33:28 GMT -5
”There is a letter with your name on it, Josie.”
The beckoning of the unwanted roommate is drowned in the fizz of the champagne chute that Josiah pours for his companion. One so easily acquired from last night’s formal ’get-to-together’, he doubts this one will hang around for long. The likely disapproval from his sister will reign down once she steps into the room to see the other half of the couch occupied.
That is the third one this week Josie!
That is what she had to say about yesterdays…
It has been like this for a long time, all throughout their childhood, Josie and the over-opinionated older sister. Always turning him to another direction, leading him down one path as he pulls her towards another. It is a relationship that seems to stick, they are siblings, family love resonates between them but carrying this over-caring nature into their thirties is exhausting Josie.
”We are adults now, just leave me be!”
”Then why are you living under my roof?”
There really is no home for Josie, no simple abode to call his home. Life is too fast-paced to settle down somewhere but the reality of his sister dragging him out of the front door by is ear is so near. She desires the simplicity of a family and he will just be the burden of that. So many things to do and so many faces to meet. All these strangers that roam the Capitol, all there for Josie to introduce himself too. It is why he caught himself up in the celebrity scene. Firstly, sneaking into the big glamorous parties with his father’s money in his pockets, getting his picture taken and name plastered across the magazines.
Honestly, he is a con.
Who is Josiah Layton?
The man who pulls flowers from a bottle of vodka and can guess the number on the card that another holds. A celebrity status built by not even doing anything, it seems to be the popular trade in the Capitol.
”It’s from the president Josie, has his stamp on it.”
His sister doesn’t even look at his companion in the eye, just throws down the envelope onto Josie’s lap. One quick inspection and he tosses it onto the table. ”Likely just an invitation to the ratmas ball.”
His trickery has led him to the government, an advisor of appearances. A position that left his sister in tears when he revealed it to her. Surprisingly an important role that has the president’s officials knocking at his door from time to time. So many events to capture that need a little sprinkle of aesthetics onto them, of course there are many that hold the position but if Josie’s tastes of authentic bourgeoisie are required, then he is called up. It is not a proper job. But it keeps the inheritance from his father topped up.
Keeping up appearances, must have been something his mother granted him, along with the grey eyes and ash hair, for a long time he filled every wardrobe in his sister’s house, until she held him by knife point to donate the just ‘once worn’ outfits. He just needs his long frame draped in whatever is hot during the season or a style he is about to make hot for the next.
Trickery has always been his game to play, the class clown to hide his true goofy awkwardness. Pulling an assortment of pranks to beat away the bullies that tormented him in his earlier years, high school turned into a playing field with a set of grades no mother would pin onto her refrigerator. Josie Layton, the once goofy little kid with two buck teeth and a mole on his cheek that winked. Of course, the delights of adulthood brought along the alterations, those bullies would never recognise him now, even if his face is advertising a new range of men’s fragrance on most billboards.
”Well if you don’t care, then you won’t mind if opened it then.”
Josie took a sip from the glass, whispering to the male that sits close to him, barely a breeze could blow through the tiny gap between their faces. Although the close intrusion of his sister is an easy distraction as the sound of the tearing envelope rings through his ears. One eye watches as the other entertains the mister.
The sudden exclamation of his sister causes the glass to jump up in his hand, its contents landing on himself and on the lap of his companion. Without a care for spoiling the other man’s trousers, Josie marches towards her. ”What is it?”
”Oh but you said it wasn’t that important…”
Josie tries to pull the letter from her grip, but her reflexes are too quick for him. She has always been far stronger and sharper than him, her headlocks are certainly deadly. ”Come on woman, just spill it.”
His sister surrenders the letter and Josie is quick on scanning through it, highlighting each of the important words. ”Well, isn’t this a surprise. Gamemaker Layton and it isn’t you hahaha!” Josie folds up the paper, slipping it into the inside of his jacket pocket, a smug smile painted on his face.
”Are you sure you can handle the responsibility?” It doesn’t take long for his sister to deliver the jabs but she doesn’t let him answer, going in for the congratulatory hug. ”Your escort left.”
”He wasn’t a-.”
”I know, I know. Does this mean I can kick you out of the house finally?”
A real position, with a real title. The worries of handling such power are already settling on his shoulders. Those few failed gamemakers before him, he can’t allow the posters of his face to be torn down…