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. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆
Tallulla despised fancy parties.
It was mainly because of her lack of outfit knowledge. She always needed to bend down to take photos but never wanted to show... anything to anyone so she was usually in a bulky pantsuit of some sort, which was always a blow to her self-esteem when she would see the gold diggers wearing their luxurious dresses.
But also, because there was always without a doubt going to be at least one old creepy man hitting on her, which always just made her feel icky. Tallulla never knew what to do in that situation, punch him in the balls? Wouldn't that be good for PR. She usually just said mid-conversation that she needed to use the bathroom and went to find a bar till the old dude either forgets why he's there or finally comes to his old age and dies.
It also didn't help that she was supposed to be going with a date, a date who happened to be really pissed at her at the moment. Hugo hadn't talked to her since he had stormed out of the apartment yesterday morning. The redhead was getting worried that she was going to have to call Roy for a ride to the Gala.
That would be nice, a bunch of footballer shouting about you having a date, saying that he was a good guy after being shouted at for not telling anyone, then arriving with Roy Kent because your good guy failed to show up to bring you to the gala. Yeah, that would be fantastic.
Tallulla settled for a black leather blazer with an all-black turtleneck and skirt with black tights to go with it. Uncle Roy would be proud with the lack of color she had used to put the outfit together. It was a good combination of fancy but also practical. She checked her watch, wondering what time she would need to call Roy but also trying to hold out hope the Hugo was just late.
She quietly sighed to herself and shoved her phone into the pocket of her blazar not wanting to look at the unanswered blue texts she had sent. She moved to one of her favorite pieces of furniture in her apartment, and old ancient chair she had taken from her childhood home when she had moved from Ireland.
It was an antique Victorian king chair her mother had picked up at an estate sale one day. They had somehow managed to fit it in the back of her mother's old 1974 ford escort, it was the first time Tallulla had ever gotten to sit up front in a car. The girl pressed herself into a cozy ball, settling down in the chair waiting for Hugo.
