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Neatly painted deep blue nails twisted the dial along the side of a metallic casing, the deep red wax rising with each turn. Raising the lipstick to his unadorned lips, the brunet meticulously traced the edges of his mouth, shifting expressions to better cover the expanse of skin. The motions were practised, of course, but a little attention to detail never hurt anyone. Dressing to impress was simply a natural impulse; one Miles never denied himself. He pressed his lips together, analysing his handiwork for a few moments, turning his head slightly to check the shine of the wax, before smiling to himself. Divine, as expected. Turning his attention to the array of beauty products scattered about his vanity, he grabbed his lip guard, gently holding the handle between his teeth as he began applying his foundation. Nina tended to criticise his methods, explaining that lipstick should be the last step to a perfect look, but Miles himself couldn’t agree any less. Perfecting the lipstick had to be the absolute first step. Letting it settle while he applied his other makeup was essential; less smudges, more opportunity to use his tongue… No downsides he could fathom.
After his finishing powder had dusted his cheeks evenly and his lip guard had been dropped back onto the counter, he reached for his eyeliner pencil, one of his personal favourites. Many women he had met at parties had confessed to struggling with the concept, always smudging their eyeliner and looking dreadful, but Miles was no amateur. He easily lined his upper lid, sneaking around the corner of his eye to apply a small trace of black underneath, leaving open skin to be decorated with shadow beneath as well. Most likely sparkles to match his outfit, of course. He repeated the process, pausing a few times to ensure his eyeliner matched on both sides, before picking up a well-used brush, glitter flecks staining the fine bristles. Swiping the brush across his opened palette, he began applying a bright, electric blue hue to his eyelids, blending shining glitter along the dark line of his eyeliner, brightening the outline. Pressing the brush back into the light sparkling powder, he applied the shimmering white beneath his eyes as well as above the blue tones, taking a moment to dust the shimmer along his cheekbones for good measure. One couldn’t take chances in these matters, after all.
Nodding as he inspected his work in the mirror, he plucked his mascara from the various supplies, twisting off the cap gingerly before leaning closer to the mirror’s surface to apply the dark substance to his lashes. He dipped the mascara brush into the container a few times before beginning to paint it across his eyelashes, pulling it slowly upwards to capture every inch of natural lash and coat it evenly in mascara, accentuating his already feminine features. He brushed the mascara wand against the rim of its container before starting in on his lower lashes, not wanting to overdo the product, as famous as he was for being outrageous. There was a necessary delicacy in makeup application, as flashy as the products themselves were. The single earring he pushed through his skin had little to do with delicacy, however.
“Absolutely divine,” Miles praised his own makeup, turning his head at a few angles and smiling at the shine of his features. Running a hand down the front of his vest, he checked that each button was latched properly beside the very last - for both aesthetic as well as seductive reasons, naturally. Standing to open his wardrobe, he rifled through a fair amount of hangers before coming across the flashy blue jacket he had been searching for. Oh yes, it would do splendidly. Careful of his freshly applied decoration, he slipped his jacket on over his shirt and appropriately patterned vest, the frilled cuffs slightly poking out from beneath in the most divine way. Brilliant white faux fur was draped overtop to solidify the look, painting the blues to be even brighter and more outlandish - precisely the purpose. Taking a seat in front of his vanity once more, he leaned down, securing his sock garters, setting the latches in place as he pulled his sleek black boots up to his knees. Finalising the look with a bright blue bow secured around his neck, a clear invitation to anyone interested, he turned back to his mirror. Appraising his completed look for a minute or two, Miles let his smile drip into a frown, knowing his ride would be waiting. This was the very reason Agatha had insisted on helping with his makeup, but he hadn’t wanted nor needed the concern. He was perfectly divine, nothing amis at all! His frown remained however, a melancholy sigh parting his lips, Tiger isn’t going to be attending… I won’t be seeing him again at all…
Miles shook his head, shutting his eyes for a moment before opening them again, No matter, it’s time to go downstairs already. I’m sure Aggie is nearly at my door already. He exited his room, forcing a carefree smile back onto his face. It’s a party after all, dear, you must look the part. A few more steps brought him face-to-face with the blonde in question, her expression brightening once she spotted him.
“Miles, darling, you look simply divine!” Agatha greeted, waving her hand in an unidentifiable gesture.
“As do you, darling, are those heels new? You simply must let me try them later,” he answered, replying with a gesture of his own, not truly intended to mean much of anything.
She nodded, glancing down at her shoes as if she had forgotten about them, “They are. Aren’t they simply divine?”
“Quite right,” Miles agreed, striding forward to offer his arm to the blonde, “Shall we?”
Agatha smiled, taking a small drag from her cigarette as she linked their arms, taking a few steps and pulling him along. The two talked casually for a time, topics flitting past without much purpose beside filling the space, not that either of them minded. The car’s door drew nearer, however, and Agatha’s steps slowed. Miles let out a breath, brushing a finger beneath his eye as if fixing his mascara.
“Miles, dear, are you quite sure you want to do this? I could bring Nina, Adam, and a bottle of something dazzling if you’d like. Glasses optional,” she added in a hush, as drinking from the bottle was nearly as beastly as Miles’ other activities.
“No, no,” he refused, “I’m quite splendid, darling, I promise. No stripes required, I tell you.” Something about the tiger joke seemed insensitive now, but Miles didn’t have time to consider the notion.
Agatha sighed, “Oh, do have a nice time, at least. Find some arm-candy or five.”
The brunet flashed his teeth, “That will not be a problem, Aggie.”
Miles pulled the door open, allowing Agatha to climb in first, before settling onto the seat beside her. The driver started the engine, Miles having already given them the destination beforehand. The pair lapsed into a charged silence, the girl having words to say that the boy was not too keen to hear. Finally, Agatha’s concern for his feelings won out over… concern for his feelings.
“Miles, dear,” she began, the male in question sinking slightly further into his seat at the pet name, “I know it has been quite tough, what with all the noise about Tiger, but-”
“No, no, it’s been quite splendid, I tell you. The less to do with that animal the better.” It pained him to use such words for someone he had loved so dearly and certainly still did, but there was almost something satisfying about it in the guiltiest way.
“He wasn’t worth the effort, I’ve told you before, I don’t remember when, but I’m certain I’ve told you.”
Miles nodded, “I’m sure you have, darling. Your instincts are much better than mine.”
Agatha frowned, “That isn’t what I meant at all.”
The brunet waved his hand, “Yes, yes, I know what you meant, love. I’m merely trying to praise you. You do look out for me so well.”
The two fell into another silence, less to do with words left unspoken and more to do with thoughts of their own to consider, neither quite sure if they truly wanted to know what the other was thinking about. It assuredly had something to do with them selves , which was never completely safe territory to tread on. Instead, the sound of the engine filled the space, tires rotating, each bump jarring in the quiet.
Before long, Miles was exiting the automobile, holding a hand out for Agatha to take. The two pulled close to one another, walking toward the doors together as they often did. The wooden doors pulled open, revealing a colourfully lit room filled with people of young ages and similar levels of nobility. Miles tended to bring down the monetary value of all those near his company whenever possible, whether purposely or otherwise. Those that itched at his nerves deserved whatever bad publicity Mr. Chatterbox saw fit to impose on them, in his opinion. Especially those that disliked his precisely applied makeup. Had they no idea how much effort went into looking as divine and stunning as Miles Maitland? Clearly not. Miles’ antics, while much unappreciated in formal settings, was exactly the type of behavior one exhibited at a party of this nature, the red overhead lighting providing the context for such a conclusion. The brunet only lamented that the lighting colour clashed so harshly with his accent colour of blue.
The pair stepped into the expansive room, arms locked, leisurely slipping between bodies to reach the settee on which the on-again off-again couple were seated, turning heads as they walked past. None were too surprised, neither by their closeness nor Miles’ flair for the dramatic. As they stepped in time together, he held his other hand outward from his body, swaying it gently with each step. Even his soft brunet curls bounced with his gait, curves accented by the unnecessary shifting of his hips. Indeed, drawing attention was one of Miles’ strongest suits.
“Nina, darling, I’ve fetched our lovely Miles. Doesn’t he look quite divine? I told him- Can’t remember when, but I told him that lip colour would be absolutely brilliant on him.”
The other female nodded, glancing over Miles’ features for a moment before turning back to Adam, the current object of her affections, “Yes, quite lovely, that colour.”
Miles waved his hand dismissively, unlooping his arm from Agatha’s, “How is our wonderful little journalist doing tonight? Any fantastical scoops for us tonight?” While the words may have been pointed and sharp toward the former Mr. Chatterbox, Miles’ tone was simply playful toward Adam.
“Ah, not so far.”
“Terribly boring,” Nina added, glancing away from her date as if the walls held something more interesting than conversation.
The decorated brunet tossed his head, bouncing his curls, “You beg for fun and here I am, darlings~!”
The statement earned laughter from the group, a few heads turning toward them.
“What antics shall we get up to this evening? Perhaps some naughty salt?” he asked suggestively, raising his eyebrows with a smirk.
“Oh, you know, people are beginning to say that’s bad for your health,” Adam spoke up, “I heard it’s going to be in the papers soon enough.”
Miles huffed, “Where did you hear that? A little sting never hurt anyone,” he teased, winking at a tall blond that made the mistake walking past him.
“I’m terribly serious,” the journalist continued, speaking hurriedly as if speed equated to interest level.
“Don’t be a cad, it’s only a bit of fun,” the brunet insisted, pulling his familiar compact from his pocket. He glanced to the side, laughing slightly at Agatha’s hand already reaching for a pinch of the white powder that was nothing like that of foundation.
“You’re going to ruin the party,” Nina whined, reaching out similarly. Adam sighed but didn’t protest any longer, abstaining from the substance himself. Miles pinched the powder between his thumb and index finger, holding the compact carefully with his other hand as he tilted his head back, inhaling the substance, his nose twitching slightly as he blinked his eyes at the sting of it. The slight pain washed away with the pleasant humming of his nerves, any lack of energy immediately rectified as the substance coursed through his body. A more genuine smile graced his features, concern slipping away.
“Now, who’s ready to
party,
my lovelies?”