ADELE WAS NEVER THE TYPE OF GIRL to think herself better than the others. At least, she used to be. There isn’t a cruel bone or mean streak in her body, raised as sweet as the peaches in Georgia, always taught to be considerate and kind to others. Under the influence of her grandmother for much of her life while her father fought abroad, she was taught all about the principles of being a hardworking but no-nonsense young lady, to bake, cook and sew, and the importance of one's nature, how they uphold and perceive themselves, and how they are perceived by others. It was drilled into her to be polite and courteous to all – and maybe, this sweet disposition and a beautiful face is what caught the attention of the con-man. Yet despite all this, somehow, being selected by Fontaine as his glamour girl, as the individual draped on his arm at all these fancy gatherings and parties, has wound up inflating her ego. Truthfully, how could it not? Anyone would change, even slightly, in her little size five shoes, raised in the grandness of nothing, rising to become a notable figure in Eve’s. Maybe not Jasmine Jolene level, but with current affairs, perhaps that could change... it’s not every day you’re whisked up by the second most popular and influential man in Rapture, gifted items of extravagant wealth with very little to give in return. It had wrapped her up like a whirlwind, so used to the John’s of Eve’s with very little class or reputation, stinking like booze, that to experience a man with refined taste, with the wit and charm of how to treat a woman properly, was a shock to her system. Even now, in the long, elegant pink dress he’d purchased for her especially for this outing, she can’t help but look at him like he placed all the stars in the sky, like he’s the greatest thing since the invention of sliced bread. The slogan on the Futuristics posters and tv jingle declares that ‘the Future is Fontaine’ — and she can’t help but agree.
“Thank y’ever so much again, Mister Fontaine, f’gettin’ me in here, and f’gettin’ me my dress. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever owned.” She sounds utterly starry-eyed, enamoured with him and this upper class world he has carved his place out in. He truly is a success story, the proof that anyone here can take the sweat of their brow and truly become something, build something from the ground up. Her father is cautious of him – of course he is. The man works in Ryan’s Security, and is well aware that Fontaine is hot on Ryan’s heels when it comes to success, and public image. But Adele doesn’t see the politics of it, the brewing potential for disaster. She just considers herself a girl lucky enough to attract the attention of a very wealthy and successful man. The Stayr Lounge is notoriously difficult to get into, but for him, it looked like it was easier than breathing. “I’ve always wanted t’come here.” A cocktail lounge for the upper class. It looks just as glamorous and dazzling inside as it does from the outside. She reaches to take one of his hands in her little ones, marvelling at the difference between them. His hands are oh-so slightly calloused, mostly soft, but certainly much larger than hers, the woman gentle in her touches, somewhat flirtatious. “You’s a real sweetheart, sortin’ all this out for me. I'm so grateful, really.”
