* ccsinclairs !
his feet are kicked up on a table like he owns the place. for how familiar cc is with the hotel ballroom commonly rented out as a reception hall, he might as well have some stake in its deed, by this point. aside from his luxurious recline, he actually does a decent job of blending in ( or, at least, he presumes so since he’s yet to get kicked out of a wedding ). he’s all dressed up, his expression looks amiable enough, and he’s just as grateful as the actual attendees for the open bar. by all appearances, cc was an ideal wedding guest.
only… he hasn’t the foggiest idea who he’s supposed to be supporting on their road into wedded bliss. and he’s really only there to down some free alcohol, get with the nearest envious bridesmaid or groomsman and maybe even make a pass at the happy couple themselves. it’s all a bit of a game to the ageless cynic and the wedding guests are nothing more than his playthings. that thought draws his mouth up into a catlike grin, eyes glinting with something slightly more sinister as he scans the room. he very nearly made a full sweeping gaze before his eyes fall upon the poor sap of a wedding planner he’s had the misfortune of brushing shoulders with a few times.
“ is it not you who is making a scene? ” cc challenges with a careful arch of his manicured brow. “ i was perfectly happy and enjoying myself up until you arrived – wasn’t hurting anyone, honest! ” he holds his hand up in mock defense. in reality, he’s deliberately stalling answering the question. did he see the name dubrow on an placecard? dubois? dudley? why did wedding decorations always choose the most flowery illegible script? “ dupont. ” cc chances, knowing he’s likely wrong. “ or, at least, that’s how it’d be pronounced back in england. ” it’s an excuse and a lie all in one. he’s really on his game tonight.
all around them the ballroom carries on in picturesque fashion ; the song on the speakers is an old classic which reels in a number of guests both young and old onto the dancefloor , the newly wedded couple swaying in one another’s arms among the happy crowd. then there’s beau and this guy -- - beau , clutching his drink with his eyebrows knit together , lips pressed into a tiny frown , and the other with his feet propped up on a table looking a little too comfortable and smug for beau’s liking.
❛ i didn’t say anyone was making a scene. i’m just trying to prevent one from happening. ❜ he can’t help the aggravated tap , tap , tap of his foot. still . . . to be fair , though he might’ve crashed this wedding , he certainly hasn’t done anything to draw any attention to himself. beau hadn’t even seen him until after dinner for goodness sake. everything’s been perfect tonight , so it’s ought to stay that way for just a few more hours , right ? it’s an overtly optimistic thought -- - even for beau -- - but , he heaves one more long sigh , and relents.
❛ durant , ❜ he supplies and beau can’t help but wonder who in the world is this guy. ❛ you were close enough. okay -- - as you can probably tell it’s been a good night for me , everyone else , and most importantly the bride and groom. i’d really like for the rest of the night to stay that way , you know ? so first off -- - ❜ he points at the other’s kicked up feet. ❛ please stop that. ❜ his words have lost their irritated edge at this point. ❛ and second , stay away from the bridge and groom as much as possible , okay ? can you at least manage that ? ❜
