May 15th, 1891 - The Life of Zeus, Episode II

The newest Mrs. Prewett had quietly managed to wear him down within less than two weeks of her arrival in the country, and so Art was now staying in a room in a boardinghouse in muggle London. The muggles were grating and the strain it put on his already-wobbly finances wasn't great, but it was only until he found a place he liked that also would take his risky credit in Bartonburg — which he was sure he'd do within the fortnight. He didn't like the boardinghouse though, and he was aware of not liking it — and aware that he wanted to be anywhere else — and aware that he was not exactly entirely out of this, no matter what he was pretending to Desdemona.

So the invite to a party in Bristol had been most welcome, even if it was sort of a weird invite to get. Art didn't at all know what to expect, or — what to wear, so he went with an outfit he would have worn to a cocktail party if this was a cocktail party instead of — private theater? Mostly what Art found was that no one was going to care what he was wearing, and it took him just a few minutes to settle into being casual about this, as if he was usually at these things. It helped that he saw some of the people he'd run into at Ester's, as Art had come to think of them as allies in his time there.

And then there was the play itself. Art was more aroused during than he would have liked to admit, and would have tried to hide it if the same situation hadn't been abundantly obvious in several of the other attendees. Was this a thing rich people did now, sit around watching other people have sex? If he'd known about this thirteen years ago, he certainly would have attended.

Desdemona wouldn't have wanted him to attend this. Art wasn't even sure how he would have begun to explain this to her. He had a brief thought of leaving at intermission, out of loyalty to her — but he was just looking, right? He was just looking and this was keeping him out of other trouble, and there were drinks, and he was a little overwhelmed by everything but he was having fun. So he stayed through the second act, and the reception was starting, and he wasn't leaving early, that would have been rude.

He stayed away from the party potions mostly because he wasn't in the mood, but he'd had a few drinks, and was that waiter just wearing a vest now?

(Part of the appeal of this was that Art rarely found himself genuinely surprised by anything scandalous, and the play had not managed to scandalize him, but it had managed to surprise him.)

It had taken him longer to find himself face to face with the host than he would have thought earlier in the night, but Art had come here without any idea of what he was going into. He felt faintly awkward about the last few interactions they'd had — the conversation at Ester's was blurry — but he could pretend he didn't, because he liked it here and he sort of wanted to be charming. He'd decided somewhere through Act I that the easiest way to play his presence at this event was to act entirely at ease — and honestly, it wasn't like he was ill at ease with what was happening.

"Mr. Selwyn," Art said, with a nod and a crooked grin, "You throw a good party." He took a sip of his drink.

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