A Night in a Year: 38. Xavier

She frowns at the word ‘marketing’, like he’s applied a commercial to what everyone is wearing.

“Personal choice has to come into it too,” she protests.

He shrugs. “Sure, that’s what they want you to think.”

She tries to keep the tone light, and puts one hand on her hip, grinning as she says, “Capitalist conspiracy then?”

“Oh of course!”

“So, do you think I’m the product of marketing?”

She can’t help notice Diarmuid roll his eyes, and excuse himself, for what is probably the bathroom.
Xavier sniggers, and then says, simply, “We all are. Even Mr. I’m Above All That who just left us. It is all about creating an image of ourselves. Did you really dress ‘just for yourself’ tonight?”

She doesn’t need to think about that. Of course she didn’t. But this kind of spotlight on her isn’t what she wants, so she shifts it away.

“Diarmuid doesn’t look like he cares that much how he dresses.”

“No, and when he comes out somewhere like this, that is what he tells himself, and what he tells himself each time he throws on whatever he picked up from the floor or yanked out of the closest. But that’s to tell himself he’s a real man who doesn’t care…”

She can fill in the blanks – when in fact, he does.

“You’re a smart guy,” she says, meaning it, rather than flirting.

“Nah, just another smart enough guy in a smart city.”

She doesn’t quite believe his humility, but it’s nice to hear anyway, and she wonders what it would be like to hug him.

She gives Xavier her wide toothy smile, and leans forward, allowing her breasts to ease further out of her dress. Xavier only gives her a pleasant grin.

Then Diarmuid returns, and looks between them both.

-
Next: 39. Second Round

Image found on flickr, by geishaboy500, used under the Creative Commons License.

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