Trophy Wife (G/t)

2

"Scott, is everything okay?" I stand up and walk to him, hoping to find whatever he's angry about.

"No, I'm not okay! Do I look okay!?" I'm just gonna leave that as a rhetorical question. It's already been proven tonight, but I know well enough that mad Scott is bad Scott. Luckily, my silence was enough for him to explain his issue. "I know I said Melrose was a bitch earlier, but I NEVER instructed her to vocalize it! She's bitching someone out!"

I track down the little lady in the room and find her projecting every part of herself to the crowd, from what I can tell, but mostly her voice. "So, are you going to go in and stop it?"

"Ha! Forget that!" he laughed, completely changing his tone out of nowhere. "Like I would interrupt a performance like this! I'm just pissed that she wouldn't call me and let me know." Maybe she wanted to handle it on her own? Nah, I shouldn't say that. Not that I care, but he won't like it. "Oh, you're interested, Tracy?" Do I look that obvious? "Heh, I don't blame you. Here. You might as well join in. A show like this just has to be seen AND heard."

He then readjusted the settings on his phone to increase the volume ten-fold, allowing me to listen in on the currently airing episode of 'Melrose Mania'... or whatever she was doing. With the help of the audio, I'm finally able to match the voice to its user, getting in on what was pleasing Scott so-... No. N-No...

Oh, hell no.

Within the rainbow that was dresses, suits, and what most unknowing people would consider elf slash fairy people, mini Melrose and all her golden essence stuck out like a sore thumb, with everyone else - yeah, that mic had sound quality that was THAT good, apparently - silent and viewing the scene. She was the prime example of the bad, popular girl in any grade school or university-themed movie - very reminiscent of the bimbos Scott fancied himself with during our school years. Ugh, no wonder he got... made her, out of all of the possible options. While her raunchy, vulgar attitude was already sickening, it was her current target and her words toward her that killed me... not even softly. The fact that she couldn't even fight back, physically or verbally, was even worse. Fighting mentally could be possible, but Melrose looked as if she wasn't going to let it... her get that far. The little female being taunted was literally cornered, with all eyes on her. She couldn't do anything.

"Being such a pretty girl, myself..." Melrose commenced. I wonder where she heard that from, hmm? "...I know another one when I see one. But, what was I thinking, with you? I guess from a distance, you're all saturated and whatever, but up close and personal... my god. You're not even worth my time. Heck, you might as well be a freaking ghost! HA!" She then initiated a quite sassy stroll to her adversary of sorts, with the others in the room laughing in agreement with her. "Look at you - your pale self, all scrawny, weak, and... foreign." What? 'Foreign'? Melrose, you and her- no, all of you are from extraterrestrial ancestry. Literally, nothing else on this planet has your DNA, as far as we know. Only she looks legit. What are you talking about? "You could be part Silver. You could even be part Iron or something - Yuck. But, no, you're some kind of albino mixed breed, obviously. Your dress is probably worth more than you. Though, I've gotta give you props. You've got pretty solid fashion sense, for such a flimsy persona. It's a shame that dress has to wear you..."

As Melrose threw insults, Scott gleamed with pride, as if he didn't even care about the harsh words spurting from his lady's mouth. I, for one, don't share those same thoughts.

"Scott, can you believe this?" I ask, hoping his inner feelings didn't match his appearance.

"I... I truly can't," he answered back. "I'm so proud!" Just add a cliche wiping away of a tear, and you have instant douche-bag. Suit-and-tie douche-bag.