Dynasty | h.s

Twenty Three

Ezra's POV

The charity event takes place on the first Friday of June in a spacious room the five-star hotel allows to be rented out. Ironically enough, it's the hotel that I stayed in on my first night in London and the one where Jack Bryant resides.

This isn't fully what I had been expecting out of the event. I painted the scene of being out in the sun during midday with housewives dressed in floppy hats and their best summer dress, sipping on bubbly drinks while their husbands talked sports. I've never been to a charity event and never thought about researching what I could be getting into. If I had done that, I would've been prepared for tonight.

I would have learned that people attend auctions in their best outfits, ready to drunkenly spend money in the name of charity for whatever nonsense is being auctioned off.

The guests mingle with each other, taking turns at the bar or simply grabbing flutes of champagne off of the waiters' silver platters. Tables litter the marble floor, names of the attendees on little cards. The tables have white, elegant table cloths on them and fine china plates meant for the dinner that will be served before the auction.

The chandelier hangs on the ceiling, accenting the room and making it look even more classy. The lights are dimmed and hues of blues and purples illuminate the room, creating a more vibrant atmosphere. The ray of lights catches multiple women's sequins on their dresses and makes them glisten in the most captivating manner.

Like all other events, I stand in the shadows, observing. My back is pressed to the cool wall and my hand holds a flute of champagne. Victoria is too occupied with pretending with Charles to give me any of her time, and I can't complain. It's a blessing, really. For once, I don't need to walk around with a fake big smile and mingle with people I'll never see again after this summer.

The room is jammed packed with famous CEOs, the richest socialites, and a handful of England's most beloved celebrities. Everyone loves to attend charity events for the sake of giving themselves a good public image. The paparazzi linger outside with their bright flashes, capturing anyone who enters and leaves the venue that will then be sold to a publication firm and a good story will be written. Journalists and interviewers are amongst the guests inside, pen in hand and ready to write about who won what.

Tonight is about themselves and not the charity they're donating all the money to. As much as these people want to claim they have a heart of gold, some of them will be some of the most selfish people.

Rich people are abominable socially.

I raise the flute to my lips, taking a leisure sip of the bubbly liquid that warms my whole body. When I retract the glass from my lips, I allow my eyes to scan the room. I find Victoria and Charles mingling with their guests. Charles' hand rests on the small of Victoria's back and they both wear tight smiles. They're playing pretend, trying to fool their guests. This is nothing new.

Blaire sits at a table alone, hand holding a compact mirror as she fixes her cherry lipstick. Her dress is a mini black strapless dress that has a feathered skirt that only is in the back, showing off her toned legs. She's been sitting at the table designated for the Styles and Bjorn family since we've all arrived. She tends to be the youngest at any event her family holds and she doesn't seem to have the same social responsibilities as Harry at these things. Blaire is the black sheep of the family.

Harry hasn't made his grand appearance just yet. I had arrived with Blaire, Charles, and Victoria. The married couple had a quick conversation on how Harry would be arriving separately and on his own terms. The ride had been tense and filled with silence despite Victoria trying her best to get some kind of conversation flowing between the four of us.