Orphic | Spider-Man

FIVE

OH MY GOODNESS," said a fair-skinned lady coming from behind Octavia on her left. Her blond hair was pulled up into a high pinned-look like a beehive was stuck to her head. Her white gloved hand touched Octavia's shoulder while the other was wrapped around the arm of her husband.
      "What a gorgeous shawl. So soft too! Honey look! May I ask where you got that?"
      Octavia threw on her biggest, flashiest fake smile and turned her shoulders in a gesture of showing-off.
      "Gucci." Octavia replied in the same high-pitched tone as the woman.
      Otto had to cover his mouth with his hand, pretending to scratch his chin as the woman awed.
      "Oh my! Well it compliments your dress beautifully! Buh-bye now." and the lady walked away, clinging to her husband's arm.
      "When are all the wives going to realize that the table they're grabbing champagne from isn't real champagne?" Octavia asked her father.
      Otto tilted his head. "That was rude, Octavia."
      "That was funny!" she snickered. "Come on Dad, look at them--all of them, this is the Placebo Effect in full force." She motioned to the crowd of couples close together, mainly wives swaying back and forth with her small glass of whiskey. "You and I now, we aren't victims to the sparkling cider."
      Otto smiled. "How many drinks have you had behind my back?"
      "This is my fifth." Octavia nearly hiccupped telling him. "You?"
      "Third." Otto smiled.
      Octavia scoffed, "Lightweight."
      She and Otto clinked glasses.
      "No more young lady."
      "I know, I know, that was my plan." Octavia said, taking another sip from her glass. "I was going to go puff a cigar in the Gent's Room next anyways."
      Otto gave her a look, and Octavia gave him the same one back.
      "Don't act like I don't know you have cigars in the inner pockets of your jacket." she giggled.
      Otto moved in closer to his daughter and lowered his voice in a hush tone, "I'll let you puff one later. When no one is around."
      Octavia laughed with her father, their eyes crinkling the same, their laugh the same, their smiles. But Octavia saw the switch between her father's real smile into his fake smile, which was nearly similar, except that the crinkling at the corner of his eyes went away when he wore his fake smile.
      "Cockholder incoming." he whispered.
      Octavia followed Otto's gaze to where she saw two tall blond men, one obviously younger than the other, her age, smiling her way while the father made quick small talk.
      If both hadn't been so similar already, one would know Otto and Octavia were related by the way they both downed the last of the whiskey in their glasses before Charles Cockholder Sr. and Jr. approached them.
      "Doctor Octavius!" Charles Sr. exclaimed once he and his son approached the two.
      "Doctor Cockholder," Otto greeted.
      Octavia curled in her lips to keep herself from laughing.
      "It's great to finally meet with you."
      "I feel the same, Doctor." Charles Sr. smiled, shaking Otto's hand. He wore a slick gray suit, light, noticing, shiny under the light in the wide white room. His steel blue eyes peered over his thin square glasses and laid upon Octavia. "Olivia? Right?"
      She bit the inside of her cheek hard. "Octavia."
      "Ah," Charles Sr. shook his head before shaking her hand. "My apologies, Octavia." He then turned to his son, who wore a bright royal blue suit, the same type of shiny and noticing. He had the bright blond hair of his father, in the exact same side cut, gelled the exact same way. His glasses were thin as well, and square just like his father's.
      "This is my son, Charles Jr.," Charles Sr. patted his son on the back.
      "Nice to meet you." Octavia smiled, holding out her hand.
      Charles Jr. smiled, chin tilted up and chest puffed out a little too much as he took Octavia's hand. Octavia's hand began to tighten around his--this was her plan: nearly break his hand in the shake, then be the worst girl he's ever talked to. However, just as she tightened her hand, or began to, she fell into complete and utter confusion as she watched Charles Jr. turn her hand over back facing up to kiss it.
      Octavia stopped breathing as she stared wide-eyed at Charles Jr. as he continued kissing her hand. Octavia could see her father making the exact same face from the corner of her eye. Charles Jr. finally stopped kissing her hand, but he didn't let go. He held their hands out and up high for all to see if they looked their way. Octavia quickly let go. She saw Charles Jr.'s smile falter, but like he was taught to do in a wealthy, publicly prominent family, hid it.
      "Well," Charles Sr. said, pulling at the lapels of his coat. He spoke as if his son didn't just do the most weirdest, most embarrassing thing a boy could ever do upon meeting a girl. "How about you two wander the grounds? I did have a say in picking the place for the event, after all." His smirk made Octavia uncomfortable.
      Charles Jr. clicked his tongue looking over at Octavia, putting his arm out for her to take.
      "Shall we?" he asked, making his voice deep on purpose. He sounded like a very unsexy James Bond, and the way he cocked his eyebrow showed how hard he was trying to impress her. All around, he was trying too hard.
      "Sure." Octavia nodded. She ignored his arm and walked past him, her direction set for across the ballroom to the open doors of the balcony.
      Charles Jr. paused, then shook his head and followed after Octavia like a puppy.
      "Ah, look at them," Charles Sr. smiled. "I think they will get along just fine."
      Otto didn't reply except for a forced smile as his hand picked up a bottle of whiskey from a server's platter walking past him. He decided to drink for her.