DATE — August, 1924
LOCATION — Banquet Hall of Tulane University
FOR — @zophistication
If there was one thing that people with an exorbitant amount of wealth liked to do — they quite enjoyed flaunting it. No matter how hard her parents and sister tried to coach her into emulating the careless disregard they had for their cash, she never seemed to quite manage it. Leona had a little too loud of a conscience for that. As she looked at the rich foods that filled the plates of the donors and social elite, she couldn’t help the way her stomach turned. It was far more familiar with the pangs of hunger — better equipped to handle it too than the decadence that was before her.
That is why she depended on people like Zosia.
Leona looked around the crowd, gloved fingers clasping behind her back as she did her best to appear haughty and aloof. It was more than likely she looked panicked and earnest more than anything. How could she not when she felt as though people were pointedly looking at her — evaluating her for every flaw she already knew there to be. Perhaps they could see in the way that she carried herself that she wasn’t one of them.
Blessedly, she caught a break in the crowd — slipping through the currents of people that milled about. And there she was, her savior and salvation, Zosia.
Huffing a bit, she sidled up next to the woman. “You know, I don’t think I would mind things like this as much if people actually contributed stimulating conversation. I thought these sort of parties were supposed to be fun and bawdy — not stuffy and a drab.”
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