STARTER CALL. // @liarstill
it was something of an unspoken, old money rule in these rich societies to know the families of ancient wealth. it was an arbitrary thing as dated as the family names themselves based off of encouraging connections and manifesting status among wealth. bruce had dozens, if not hundreds, of names memorized. at parties, he cycled through them like flipping through a phone book.
dupont, carlisle, rothschild, vanderhart--bromwich.
bruce recognized the face, remembered the surname associated, and had to take an additional beat to remember the first name, the given name.
he remembered the whisperings that came about the socialite circles his family was in when the accident happened, still young himself and not particularly caring of the ongoings of another. he likewise remembered the disappointment of a member of such an esteemed family seemed wayward, hopeless, lost.
though, didn't he model now, for one of his cousins? siblings? something of that sort--bruce never cared to do a deep dive. when it came to these social gatherings and once-a-year encounters, he kept it shallow, saving his mental space for information more important.
" morgan. " bruce smiled with the warmth of an old acquaintance catching up, which was all this was--catching up and maintaining appearances. " how are you? "