The Life of a Party; The Death of a Life

Act: 1 Scene: 1

The scene starts off at the Fenwick Castle in all its grander. An 18th century building with tall towers connected through walkways or open corridors that give the appearance of looking through a skeleton. The inside is decorated with all the formality of rich life with gold gleaming trinkets here and there and impressive looking statues and pictures. The castle is dressed in a classic style barely known in this modern forget the past style of living. The host Brad Fenwick is a tragically heroic man who is known throughout the lands for his many noble deeds but with an equally dark past filled with loss and misery. As it stands he his hosting a Christmas get together for some of the most esteemed London guests alongside his fiancé Chrystallica White. He is standing alone with her on the balcony just outside of the dining hall his guests had just dispersed after dinner and were scattered around the castle with champagne and wine gossiping about everything alcohol brings to mind. Two guests stand just inside the esteemed castle and watch the couple from afar.

Lily: They must be very pleased with the outcome of their party
Alec: Obviously you don't know Brad very well.
Lily: Why do you say that?
Alec: Because he would hardly call this a successful event.
Lily: Why must you always be so condescending?
Alec: I'm hardly being condescending at all, Lily. I haven't even gotten a buzz yet.
Lily: Well then what reason do you have to think he's displeased with the party?
Alec: That I know Brad.
Lily: Well perhaps you'd care to enlighten me on what it is you know about him that makes you think in such a way?
Alec: I worked far too hard to learn the man to just give it up in one conversation.
Lily: Are you always this difficult?
Alec: Are you always this beautiful?
Lily: You really have no shame, Alec.
Alec: No shame at all.
Lily: Well I think it's a shame you don't. I almost didn't like you.
Alec: Yes well that's the bad thing about being charming. You can hate anyone except someone that's charming. No matter what else they do or say, if they say it charmingly then you'll like them. That's why I like all women.
Lily: I sure hope you don't think I'm charming.
Alec: Why not?
Lily: Because a woman that is charming is a woman looking for trouble and I'm definitely not looking for that.
Alec: Well I happen to find you very charming and there's really only one kind of trouble a married woman can look for.
Lily: Now you're just being forward.
Alec: I fear so.
Lily: Well at least you have some sort of reserve then.
Alec: Oh now don't go insulting me.
Lily: You deserve it.
Alec: There you go being charming again.

Enter Melody

Melody: Well aren't we quite the set of peeping toms?
Alec: To lily. See what I mean?
Lily: Well she's allowed to be charming.
Alec: I find it much more alluring for someone trapped to be charming than someone out in the open.
Lily: Laughs. Well I find it the same.
Melody: Huffs.
Alec: Oh I didn't see you there. How charming you look.
Lily: Yes completely charming.
Melody: Stares at Brad and Chrys. Do you think they're as happy as they appear?
Alec: I don't think anyone is at all as they appear. They are either overdressed and dull or under dressed and exciting.
Melody: Well then do you think they're less than or more than they appear?
Lily: For now they are more. Brad apparently isn't pleased with the outcome of this party or so says his main authority figure.
Alec: Yes well as I said. You have to know him to understand but he definitely isn't very pleased at the moment.
Melody: How trivial you are. What does it matter if he thinks this party a success or not? Do you think his engagement is a success to him?
Alec: Well he's loved her for a long time.
Lily: I remember them back at school. They always seemed so... destined.
Melody: I hate destiny. It always holds out the best for those too weak to grab their future themselves. It's nothing more than an excuse to sit back and watch as things happen. Those who believe in destiny don't believe in themselves.
Lily: Do you believe in fate then?
Melody: I would rather believe in nothing.
Alec: What a splendid idea.
Melody: Hardly splendid at all. That would be far too humble for my taste, and even less appetizing if seen on someone else.
Alec: Well it's a good thing I only have an eye for the already taken then?
Lily: Yes well it's one thing to be so rash in private but to do it publicly is just too much for me. If you will excuse me I see an old friend from school. Good evening Melody and a wretched night Alec.

Lily leaves

Alec: Pouts slightly at the disappearing silhouette of Lily. It’s always so sad to see a woman hold up to moral standards, it makes me think there is no hope left in the world.
Melody: What an abomination.
Alec: I’m sorry ma’ dear?
Melody: Stares off through the glass door towards the hosting couple. What a sad existence, what a horrible tale, what a miserable woman. Standing there in her eloquent dress with her slender wrists and dark hair and emerald eyes. Look at her against him, right next to him she stands like some equal being in his life when she doesn’t deserve to watch the back of his head run in front of her. Look at her insufferable stance as her gaze spills all the love that she has, all the self gratification she gets from feeling in such a way. Who does she think she is anyways? What makes her so great? What makes her feel so worthy of all this? What makes her feel so much better than everyone else? To be in love? Huffs. To be a woman in love is nothing more than to say that you are better than everyone else.
Alec: Looks confused towards Melody. Then what does it say for him?
Melody: It says nothing of him except that even in her eyes she knows that she is not equal to him. Engagement for a woman is nothing more than to admit that one is not equal to the proposer.
Alec: Is that why you stay so single then?
Melody: There are two reasons women stay single and the reasons are as opposite as the moon and sun. Either they know their worth and would never admit to being inferior or they are so inferior they would never allow another to fall for such low standards.
Alec: You are awfully cynical. I usually try to avoid all forms of cynicism unless it’s before dinner. I find it easiest to deal with them while I have something to take my mind off their pessimism.
Melody: Well I wouldn’t want to spoil your life’s philosophy.
Alec: Nor would I. It takes so long to build a philosophy.
Melody: And so little to destroy it.
Alec: Smiles sadly. So it does but I hope you took no offence ma’ dear.
Melody: None at all but surely there’s some more women for you to try your bantering on. As for me I’m not nearly drunk enough to stand you much longer. Good day Mr. Morrowood.

Act:1 Scene:2

Two men stand together on the opposite side of the room of where Melody just walked away from. The one man Chris Strike is an old friend of Brad's. They met through working together on a couple of different occasions and as well they share a close mutual friend that has caused a closeness like brothers or a chasm like bitter enemies between the two depending on the day it was. The second man Sir James Bannister Senior is a wealthy aristocrat that took over the department that Brad left a year or two before. Perhaps the flashiest dressed of all the people there including the females and by far the most arrogantly alluring and despicable.

Chris: Sips lightly on a glass of champagne. You are looking well I dare say.
James: I fear it’s not very daring at all to say anything anymore. We are in a society where saying what you think has become much like AIDS were in the eighties. We don’t know what causes it or why so many die of it but it seems to happen all the time.
Chris: Rolls eyes. And like AIDS does it lack a cure then?
James: The cure is the same as AIDS.
Chris: Raises brow.
James: The only way to be sure to not have either is to not partake in either communication or sex. Funny enough if you avoid the first you are almost sure to avoid the second as well.
Chris: I suppose so.
James: Only half right actually or at least my statement was. My thoughts you see were completely right because for women it is hardly necessary for them to communicate.
Chris. In fact it’s usually more preferred to ensure the second.
James: Laughs lightly. How very romantic of you.
Chris: A disease worse than all others I’m sure.
James: It is not a disease to be romantic any more than it is an infection to breathe oxygen.
Chris: Perhaps it is in us all to be romantic but it does not hurt to breathe nearly as bad as it is to be romantic.
James: I bid you please don’t speak bitter sentiments so late in the evening. I’ll find myself wasting the night on thinking of every bad thing that has happened and forget about all the good things.
Chris: Well it isn’t in my nature I guess to see anything good in any of this. Not the brightest glint of gold or the smoothest sip of champagne can come without a bitter sweetness in contradiction.
James: You remember too much.
Chris: And forget even more.
James: Yes well I’d much rather forget everything than remember too much. It’s the only peace the world knows. Memory is simply a bitch that constantly smacks you in the face.
Chris: And yet you can never let her go?
James: There’s something about her that’s just calming. You’d be lost without her.
Chris: Finishes off the rest of his glass with a deep swig. And what is memory beating you with this evening?
James: I dare not listen to her yet, it’s best to have a couple drinks under your belt before you let her talk. That way by the time that she finishes you’ll have forgotten it all.
Chris: I wish I had such control over things.
James: What is it that you are not wanting her to tell you?
Chris: Looks away uncomfortably and sees a change of subject standing together outside on the balcony. Did you hear about the latest arrest?
James: Looks disappointed at having his question not answered but recovered regally. It is only proper that any British Gentleman knows of all rumors and scandal going around but nothing of actual action.
Chris: Well then you should have heard about this.
James: Raises Brow. I don't believe I follow you? Yes, it was a terrible thing I've heard. Death always is. Well besides when it's a romantic tragedy of course. But I was not aware of any scandal besides that.
Chris: You don't find it suspicious that it was only when Brad came to the scene an hour later that they finally found any kind of lead?
James: Isn't that the way he made his legend? Finding things and deducing things that others couldn't even see?
Chris: That's what I thought as well until well... until I saw Nate last week.
James: Oh you really are romantic. Listening and agreeing to the accused over the accuser!
Chris: Scrunches up face in distaste. There was no listening to him because he couldn't even talk.
James: Well I guess he wasn't being overly infected with saying what he thought then. Laughs imperiously.
Chris: He ignored the joke with a serious face and tone. He had been beaten into unconsciousness and in critical care up to two days ago. I think he has finally been released but he has still yet to say anything to his attacker, but the rumor around the water cooler is that Brad had issued a warrant to search his house the same night Nate was attacked.
James: How scandalous indeed. I'm assuming that Brad has denied these claims?
Chris: Surely you don't think anyone is actually making claims? They are merely gossiping of the suspicion.
James: A far more dangerous thing than even accusations. When scandals are brought into public they are fantasized and romanticized until they are nothing more than an eloquently put together story. And if the public loves anything it's a romantic tragedy.
Chris: What defines a romantic tragedy nowadays?
James: A romantic tragedy will always be the wrongful revenge on a rightful death. Whether figurative or not is the only question and difference in the tragedies themselves. So does that mean Nate has been taken in for arrest then?
Chris: That's the most suspicious part of it. He has not been questioned or taken in or even fired from the ministry. It is as if Brad has something to hide and is using the murder as his bargaining chip.
James: That is very unlike him.
Chris: Stares out towards Brad with an almost conflicted sentiment to his eyes. This is all unlike him. Can you think the last time he wanted to throw a party or go to one? He despises all of this political non sense and the people in it even more so. No offense.
James: Laughs. One who is not inside the political world can not be expected to understand its reasoning’s. Brad has made his way to the top because of his lack of political approval but now he must play the part to stay there.
Chris: Then it would only seem fitting that he play a part in a political scandal then.
James: Smiles briefly. You are not a politician until you have done so.
Chris: And you're quite the politician aren't you?
James: Smirks. You could say that.

Act:2 Scene:1

Inside the castle there was an air of light noncommittal speech that played on the tongues of all the half drunken participants in this evening dance of politeness and politics. The ladies laughed and the men smiled in that charmingly alluring way that would only be acquainted with an ease brought on by the most evil of spirits. The sounds of the cheery crowd reverberated through the brightly lit corridors and bounced off the decorated walls with speed and precision but on the outside balcony that gave a look into the castle there was no such feel. As the snow flakes fell slowly like marching feet down a steep hill they cascaded down with grace and power and glistened in the falling rays of the sun and fell onto the two figures that stood alone on the outside balcony to the great room.

Brad: You look beautiful tonight.
Chrys: Her emerald eyes stared out into the distance and left the compliments lay in a pile abandoned and untouched as her ivory hand delicately brushed over the top of the handrail her small frame leaned on eloquently.
Brad: You also look troubled, and well it's not at all alarming to look beautiful for you but it is worrying to see you looking so afflicted.
Chrys: I'm fine.
Brad: So you keep saying. Pauses and contemplates saying something more but his open mouth was left for nothing more than to allow the cold air to chill his tongue.
Chrys: And you keep disagreeing with it. I guess no one can be right about something besides you?
Brad: Frowns and grips the rail slowly. You wouldn't be arguing with me if nothing was wrong. You never fight with me unless something else is wrong.
Chrys: Why because obviously I couldn't just be upset with you?
Brad: Smiles lightly. All modern wives find their husband the most despicable people alive and they hold nothing but anger towards them.
Chrys: Don't talk semantics with me!
Brad: I'm not trying to. I just... I just know when you are mad with me because you act perfectly normal and completely hostile to everyone else.
Chrys: Stares out in silence again her fragile hand running up to a curl that was threatening to draw a line across her eyesight.
Brad: I guess you could call it your charm. You hold everyone's sins in your attitude and you cast none of my own sins against me. It is this alone that gives me any decent light on my life and gives me any sense of good about myself.
Chrys: You would see the good in yourself even if I cursed you every second of your existence.
Brad: Only because I'd know it wasn't me you were really cursing at.
Chrys: A smile fought against her stubbornness and played out like a sweet symphony into the cold air and that overwhelming feeling of crashing overtook her just as fast as she let her eyes fall again towards the skyline. I've always loved this spot best out of all the world.
Brad: He followed her gaze with a slight raise to his brow and a questioning look to his eyes. What is it that holds such endearment to you?
Chrys: The memory of it.
Brad: It's a foolish thing to make something from a memory.
Chrys: I never said I wanted to be anything else.
Brad: And that is your real charming quality. His hand moved gingerly around her back and rested against her side with a delicate ease that did not meet her eyes as she looked sideways toward him.
Chrys: What would you do if you knew you'd never be able to see this place again?
Brad: He tilted his head as his face scrunched confused and his eyes glistened as he looked at her. I don't get what you're asking.
Chrys: Her eyes had taken to that special place where they sparkle in obscene amounts that he was sure was uncalled for but he couldn't get enough of. He could watch her and almost see the clogs inside her mind start to work and spin quicker and quicker with each second of daydreaming. I told you what I was asking.
Brad: You told me what you were asking. But the question itself is never the important issue; it's the reason behind it that is what is always meant to mean most.
Chrys: I just. Her eyes found him again and her hand came to rest on top of his. What would you do if you knew that you'd not be able to walk the same steps you used to walk? What if you knew that in a day or maybe even less that you wouldn't have anything but memory to mean anything to you? What if when you woke up in the morning you found yourself lost for lack of a better word? What would you do if everything that you cared about was not guaranteed to you in the future? Would you reminiscence? Would you just hate life or would you want to make the last minutes matter?
Brad: You make it sound as if you're going to die tonight. The air is not right for death. Tragedy perhaps as all evenings have a sense of tragedy about them but there are many more tragedies than just death.
Chrys: And none of them so gentle as death I fear.

Enter Mason.

Mason: Sir, there is someone waiting for you in the Cigar room.
Brad: His stare lingered on his wife for a second before breaking towards the butler his eyes dazed and confused like a fawn waking up for the first time. Who is it?
Mason: Alec, sir.
Brad: Well what does he want?
Mason: He did not say except that he needed to have a private chat with you and wished for me to give you his invitation.
Brad: He turned slowly back to Chrys. I am afraid I have been a terrible host so far. Would you condone my being a terrible husband instead for just a moment or two while I go see what he wants?
Chrys: Smiles bittersweetly. It's far ruder to ignore your guests than it is your wife.
Brad: I would never ignore you.
Chrys: Well perhaps you should start.
Brad: Laughs quietly and bends over to give her a quick kiss. Then you will excuse me and find me inside in a little bit. Don't fret outside alone or you'll catch a cold. I think you'll find that the best of London is in our home tonight.
Chrys: Best is only a symbolic term for those too afraid to call them the worst.
Brad: There is no difference, love.
Chrys: So you keep telling me.
Brad: Smiles. I will see you soon.

Brad and Mason Leave.

Chrys: Oh what am I going to do? What is going to happen when he finds out? How is it that it has come down to tonight already? Has the calendar got it out for me or perhaps the stars themselves wish to outshine the most glorious time of my life! Oh curse you winter air. Jack Frost you mock me with your icy glares and have turned me as frigid towards my love and life as you are to the blossoms of a rose and the sweet call of a mockingbird. Do not set upon me this burden; do not hold me to my one weakness and my one sin. I have asked repentance. I have cleansed myself as best as one can, but I am unpracticed in forgiving myself of sins because I spend my life forgiving others of theirs! Is this the tragic fate that has bestowed my once happy existence? Oh how I curse you stars and your jealous glares. I curse you so.