Gala by Zodejama on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

Morgan opened the letter elegantly written. Another party... this night. A theater. Something about champagne, celebrities, glamour and charity.
She was ready to throw it away with the other when her stare caught sight the list of the other VIP.
And that name... Angela Mear. Her only one idole. The one great lady who inspired her to become an actress.

Morgan flipped over to her bed to grab the phone combo and typing the number on the paper. The charity society could rely on her presence.
Then she fled her hotel to skim the finest shops of the city.
And endless day...
She found a new dark light dress according to black high heels.
Sunset finally arrived and with it the gala.

Llights, noise, flashs and a red carpet.
She gave smiles to the crowd of journalists, answering to their obvious questions : of course she was happy to be here as her model since childhood will come in the same party !

But as she was discuting with those reporters on the first steps of the red carpet, a man in a tie suit with a bag patted her on the shoulder. He was one of the promoter of the charity this night and asked Morgan for any objects of her she could give. In fact a kind of auction would organized at the end of the party, all the benefits going down for charity. She openend her purse and gave him a little handkerchief with her signature. The man thanked her, commenting all the objects he had collected yet. One or two golded pens, glasses and a scarf.

"Yes, this last one was given by Angela, a very sweet per..."

"Angela Mear ? She is alreday here ?" she cuted him.

"Oh yeah, look at here on the top corner left."

There was a group of woman surrounding someone looking like an old lady at her silver hairs.
So Morgan left both journalist and promoter to climb the stairs in fourth gear. In her haste, she stumbled brutally on the steps. She straightened squeezing the teeth trying to ignore the flashs and commentaries. She picked up her red purse and climbed the last steps. Her idole was almost out of sight. Then she felt she was limping. Morgan looked at her feet and at the stairs behind her. Her right pump was lying below. She would have to go down several steps to recover it.
Another flashs. Morgan thought about smile and let the photographs capture her delicate situation. She looked at the group of women with Angela. They were going to enter the theater and she wouldn't be able to have a word with her star for all the night.
So Morgan had a breath and climbed those last steps as fast as possible.

But not so fast. There was plenty of peoples there next to the great doors. Angela was nowhere to be seen.
Morgan walked with difficulty in a direction and then another, trying to go through the crowd but she could not. Everyone was looking at her with shrugs of sorucil or mocking smiles. Dejected, she sat against a wall in a corner. In this world, everyone was watching everyone. The smallest missteps would be pointed out, commented and source of jokes before the next incident.
The noise, the lights, her failed meeting with her idole and this missing shoe... She would have prefered to go home, right now. She crossed her legs to hide her shoeless foot and avoid the bad jokes and remarks.
Then, the man with the bag approached again. He asked her if everyting was right. She gave him a pale smile as answer.

"I found this in the stairs, I think it belongs to you," he said by taking her shoe off his bag.

"Thanks, you're sweet."

"Can I help you ?" he asked, the shoe in hand.

"No... I mean yes, is there any means to call a cab now ?"

She straigthened.

"Yes but no, no. You should stay. The party has not even started."

He was bending the knee to help her with her heel. She stepped back, grabbing the shoe form his hand.

"All I want is silence now," she said as a couple of men was passing in front, laughing of her. "And you know what ? Keep it. Keep my shoe for your charity auction but please, when you will produce it for the sell, present it at those words : "For all the ones who laughed of me, now cash, you stupids !" she said by throwing the shoe in the bag of charity. "After all, this incident and my presence would not have been useless."

Someone behind her applaused.

Morgan turned back. That was Her.

"You're right, child. All this place has became a lair of bounders. I'm not sure I really want to pass another night with all those rats," said the great Angela Mear. "But I forgot everything. We are here for charity for sure," she replicated by glittering a sleazy guy with a bow tie squinting on the girls' necklines.

Then she took off her necklace.

"Here it, boy. Those are the pearls I wore for the ceremony of my third award as an actress, or the fourth, I don't remember. You'll must have a good price for it."

The man took carefully the pearls and a bit confused prefered leaving the women, his precious bag in hand.

"And you, child ? What are you doing ?" she said to her unknown fan.

"I... I was on my way to leave," stammered Morgan, shaking her foot in nylon.

"Good... good, we will go both so. I know a fine restaurant a few blocks away, much better attended. Does that tell you ?"

Morgan hesitated a second, just enough to have her first genuine smile of the night.

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