Born into the lap of luxury and a time of turmoil, Duchesse Eleonore Vigneron experiences her coming of age in the Court of Louis XVI . Embroiled in the chaos that surrounds Versailles, Eleni uses her unique blend of wit, charm, and beauty to ensure...
"Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides."--- Andre Malraux
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November 20th, 2015 Aubrey Parish, Louisiana
Scott Feila opens the door to his hotel room, a large part of his brain expected to be greeted by the bullet he never sees coming but probably deserves. Instead, he sees something slightly more painful. The serious yet compassionate face of Colton Ormond is at his door, which tells Scott everything he needs to know. Scott's shoulder's slump, and he wants desperately to reach for the booze while he still can. He needs it to get through whatever happens next.
"I'm lookin' for a man by the name of Scott Feila. The kind lady at the front desk was tellin' me how he's got this room for some time now. You him?" The Sheriff's voice was still pleasant, even though Scott sensed some sort of interrogation or arrest was about to go down.
"Yeah,I'm Scott. Sorry, you took me by surprise. I'd been napping." That part isn't untrue, and he wishes he could go back to the world of dreams. The thing about the world of dreams is that if he stays there long enough, everything painful disappears, and eventually Eleni finds him and leads him through the forest and a maze of glowing doors. It's all quite nice. The waking up is the shitty part.
Colton smiles a bit but his mannerisms are serious. "Scott, you got a girlfriend who lives in the the beach cottages on Ivy Lane?"
"She's not my--" Scott stops himself, shoulders slumping again. "I do. I stay in that house sometimes, but it's her place. I've lived in the hotel since I came to the Parish." He pauses a minute, knowing he shouldn't ask questions to which he'd rather never know the answers, but he needs to know. "Is she alright? Did something happen?"
Colton motions for Scott to step outside the room. "I'm gonna need you to come with me so we can talk about what happened at that house. I'm sorry to say nothin' good occurred. That's a new part of town and there needs to be some better security, I'll tell you that."
Scott turns to go inside the room, retrieving his wallet and keys from the table, and taking a long swig from the bottle of Jack. He can feel Colton's eyes focusing disapprovingly, but the Sheriff doesn't say a word. Scott is a thirty-five year old alcoholic, and it's not likely to change anytime soon, unless he ends up in jail. He does, however, manage an apologetic smile. Knowing the truth about what you are and having few regrets over that truth are two different things. Scott has many regrets and yet not enough to change. C'est la vie, he thinks to himself with an internal shrug.
"Is she alright? That's a stupid question. You don't come here to say that people are alright, do you??" Colton's face is the sort that is scary in its lack of emotion. It is the calm but regretful face that police and doctors and priests have before they tell you someone died or you have cancer, or some shit like that. Scott doesn't like looking at it. His heart beats more quickly and the other reason Colton would be here hits his body like a shock of cold water. "Wait, did you come to arrest me or something? I've just been here."
