EroticReverie

Kase Gibson

Standing with my silver tray in hand in a house worth more than I'd ever make in ten lifetimes, I saw the familiar face across the room. 

Wearing a dress that surely cost more than my monthly rent payment, was Emmeline Donovan. Still as gorgeous as ever, and probably still a prissy little bitch too. 

It was clear the engagement party that the company I worked for was catering, was for her and whatever sorry rich bastard she'd managed to sink her claws into. 

Her long blonde hair, was still the same almost white blonde, done up in some fancy over done bullshit hair style as if it were her actual wedding day. 

She was holding out her hand showing off a giant fucking diamond ring that I could see from here, sparkling like a god damn spotlight. I fought to roll my eyes, smiling at the pair who just plucked a flute of champagne from my tray. I smiled at them , which was pointless because they didn't even bother to give a polite glance. 

There were rich people who were alright, and there were rich people like the ones at this place. Uptight, stuffy, bored with their fucking lives because they had fucking everything, and too much god damned money. 

Once my tray was empty I made my way to the kitchen area to refill my tray. 

Tumbling out of a door, was an older man, probably in his forties, with a girl that was probably younger than me, and I was twenty four. This girl looked no more than 18. She giggles, pulling down her tight little party dress and I just ignored them, and kept walking. Being a waiter was like being a ghost to these people. 

"I can't believe you're marrying her" I hear the girl pout. 

"It's just for looks, you know you're the one I really want baby" he tells her and I roll my eyes. 

Another side effect of being rich, was cheating on people I supposed. Again, never being satisfied with what you have, you wanted what money couldnt buy apparently. More pussy. 

Filling up and returning the main area again. I held back a scoff as I watched the same guy I'd just seen with his barely legal side piece, move up again Emmeline ,and slide his hand to her waist, and kiss her cheek. 

She placed her hand with her ten ton ring to his chest and places a kiss at his jaw, telling everyone how happy they were, how lucky she was, joking about how she'd "locked him down". I choked a laugh and looked around, ignoring the fucking mess that was taking place right before my eyes. 

Poor people, or people who just werent as well off as these people, were nothing more than flies on the walls, I'd collected so many secrets from these events, over heard in hushed whispers of the rich, because they didnt care if little ole waiters heard their business. Who were we anyways, right? 

But looking at Emmeline, I started to wonder, if even though I remember her as being awful, I wondered if anyone really deserved to be cheated on. 

A few moments later as I studied her beside him, the way she had to grab his hand and put it around her, told me that she was playing pretend. She was probably marrying him for nothing more than his money. Her eyes lifted as her fiance began to speak and they travelled around the room briefly then stopped at me, and I saw a slight cock of her head. 

I smiled, her brows pinched and she looked away. She probably didn't even recognize me. If she did, it was only because her and her friends were assholes to me and mine. I was one of the poor kids at school. Travelling over thirty minutes just to go to the good school instead of the one with fucking metal detectors. 

--

It was late when we finished up cleaning up the catering, there were still guests mingling, but not that many and I was one of the last waiters to finish packing shit up when a door flung open around the corner. 

"I can't believe you fucking invited that whore here Henry!" I heard the voice I remembered so well from taunting me in the halls. 

"Oh quiet Emmeline." the man said. "You know it's over between us, it was one fucking time and I told you about it." 

I shake my head, packing more shit into the last bag. 

"Because I caught you!" she shrieks. 

"Lower your voice." he growls at her and I allow myself to ignore the spat because, that's what she gets , being a spoiled, rich little girl, gold digging, for more money when she came from a family that had fucking plenty. 

"I will not lower my v-" 

Crack. The unmistakable sounds of skin on skin, and a little yelp. I froze, my hands balling into fists. 

I heard him murmur something as I made my way through the massive kitchen to the side hall that led into another part of the house. The door was already swinging shut when I rounded the corner finding Emmeline with a hand to her face, tears streaming down her face. 

She spotted me and swiped her tears. 

"What the fuck are you looking at?" he voice angry, but cracking. 

"Did he hit you?" I ask growling, already knowing the fucking answer. I didnt care that Emmeline was a grade a fucking bitch to me in highschool, she was still a fucking female, and after watching my mother deal with my fathers bullshit for years. Nobody hit a woman in front of me and got away with it. 

"Mind you're own fucking business" she says with a snarl and smooths her hands over her dress. 

I shake my head, ignoring her fucking attitude, and go to make my way to the door he left through. 

"No!" she cries and grabs my arm. 

I turn and look at her, there's fear in her eyes. True fucking fear.

She keeps shaking her head. 

"Don't...you'll make it worse" she whispers. 

I look at her. I remember her brown eyes vividly in my head, but right now they were blue, she had contacts in. She was clearly also wearing lash extensions, and they kissed her cheeks and a fat tear rolled down her cheek. 

"Please..just go Kase." she said and I felt my eyebrows lift. So she did remember be. 

"You're marrying him?" I ask, knowing I should fucking leave, this mess isn't mine to worry about, she's not mine to worry about. 

She looks up at me.

"Don't judge me" her jaw ticks, her hand finally dropping from my arm.

"Must be worth a lot of money if you're willing to be his wife and his punching bag." I say. 

The glare she shoots me is murderous. 

"Get the fuck out." she snaps. 

"Good luck on your marriage Emmy" I say, watching her mouth part to say something , but I turn and walk away, grab my shit and go. 

---

I'd thought about her often after that day, secretly hoping she didnt actually marry the bastard. Never allowing myself to look into it. 

---

A year later, there she was....standing in an emerald colored satin gown in the middle of the art gallery. She still look infuriatingly gorgeous, other than the way arms seems a bit to thin, and she was on the edge of looking gaunt. 

She was standing with him. Her husband. The same guy that had not only cheated on her at their engagement party, but slapped her during it as well. I shook my head , my jaw clenching as I saw the possessive way his hands curled around her tiny arm from the back and pulled her along to the next photo on display. 

I watched as a woman walked by in front of them, her husbands gaze following the trim red head with the fake breasts, pouring from a red gown. 

Not even trying to hide his gaze, he even crooked his head to follow her ass as is walked away. 

I grimaced at the grin on his face , while possibly one of the more beautiful women in the world sat by his side watching it all happen, and trying to ignore it. 

I kept my eye on them from across the gallery, watching him excuse himself at the next photo, and making his way through the room and towards the red head who was admiring a photo, that was clearly of herself, nude on the wall. 

I rolled my eyes as he gestured to the painting and probably said something crass to her, but the red head took his attention, placing a hand on his arm. 

I looked to Emmeline, who watched and shook her head, and I watched her shoulders sag as she turned, and made her way slowly in the opposite direction. Once again, choosing to ignore the guy she'd married , was a fucking bastard. 

When she got to the end of the wall that I was standing near , she'd stopped on the first photo. I knew what photo she was looking at, without being able to see it. Because it was mine. The entire wall on this side was my photography. 

I walked over slowly. Studying her as she just studied the picture. 

It was an aerial shot of a couple, naked in a field, laying on their backs, the man embracing her with his one arm and leg, protectively , but the photo was only from waist up. The womans one breast exposed, his chin on her shoulder, while tears streamed from her eyes as he slept beside her. 

As I got closer I saw that a tear was slipping from her lashes. 

"Do you like the photo?" I asked quietly. 

She nodded then opened her mouth to speak and turned her head and then stopped. Her brows pinched. 

"What are you doing here?" she asks accusingly. 

"It's an art gallery. I came to look at art." I say. 

She scoffed. 

"Like you'd know anything about art." she says and looks back to the photo. I smirk to myself. 

"I suppose you're right." I let her take the jab, because her fucking husband left her to view the gallery alone so he could hit on a stranger. 

She turns to me. "But I bet you think you do....of course you do...men think they know everything." she says , rolling her eyes and I just shrug. 

"I know a work of art when I see one." I say. 

She huffs. 

"Can't say the same for your husband though. Otherwise he'd have his eyes on you instead of another woman." I say and her eyes flare, her nostrils too, her jaw ticking. She turns back to my photo. 

"God." she sighs. "you have some fucking nerve" she grits through her teeth without looking back at me. 

"I just don't understand why he'd have need to look at anything else, whether it be another woman or photography on a wall. Cause I havent taken my eyes off you since I saw you." I say. 

I watch her breath hitch and she turns her head, her eyes looking at me. 

It's sad the way she looks at me, as if someones fucking noticed her for the first time. 

"You're a downright right prickly bitch Emmeline , thorns and all, but always a fucking rose." I say quietly and watch her throat bob. 

I don't know why I'm saying this shit, not that it isn't true, despite her terrible personality, her looks were undeniable. But, I just, felt the need to remind her of who she was. She wasn't this girl. Was she? The type to let a man walk all over here, she never struck me as the type in highschool. But here she was, clearly wasting away to bones in order to either impress the man she'd married, or from the stress of the man she'd married, or fucking both. 

"How dare you talk to me like that." she said turning to face me. 

"first of all, I'm not a bitch." she says.

"You scoffed at me and told me I wouldnt know anything about art, because I was the poor kid in highschool, because im still poor for your standards....yet you sat here in front of my photo longer than any other and cried." I say. 

She opens her mouth but pauses, she looks to the photo, searching it, looking to the small card beside it. 

" K..G..." she says quietly. 

"This is really yours?" she asks and looks over it again and back to me. 

I nod. 

she peeks over at the other photo next to it. 

"These are all yours?" she gestures down the wall.

"Yes."  I answer. 

She looks up at me and blinks. 

Taking a deep breath she shrugs. "They're alright" she says and looks back to the first one. I let out a slight chuckle, looking over to where the red head and her husband, disappear into the next room together. 

"The red head is his model." she says not looking away from my photography. 

I say nothing. 

"His photos are trash." she mutters and the side of my mouth tilts upward. 

"Well, I wasnt going to say anything." I say. 

She looks over at me, turning her head only slightly giving me a side eye. 

"They're only showing his work" she air quotes the word work. 

"Because he gave them a fortune to do so." she says quietly. 

I chuckle slightly. "Makes sense as to why the wall that looks like a horny teenage boy photographed was allowed." I say and she bites back a smile. 

We stand there and she doesnt move to my next photo , keeps looking at the same one. 

"He always photographs the same type of women....he shows them to me...tells me if I'd let him buy me implants, he'd consider letting me pose." she says and then winces. She regrets saying that outloud. 

"Fuck." I say and she looks to me and shrugs, and rolls her eyes. 

"I'm used to it." she says. 

I look at her almost too frail arms.

"If you want to...you can pose for me." I say. 

She turns her head back to me. "So you can see me naked Kase?" She rolls her eyes. 

"You don't have to be naked at all. You could wear as little or as much as you want. Not all photography is nude Emmy." I say. 

She looks at me, and raises a brow skeptically. 

"I'm not going to fuck you Kase." she says bluntly.

My brows lift. "I wasn't aware i'd offered , but alright." I shrug. 

she hides a little smile and looks back to the photo. 

"I have another showing next week." I tell her. 

"The same work?" she asks, her eyes till studying the photo in front of her. 

"No. It's at the gallery right around the corner from here. The Delaney. These photos will be there as well, along with others." I say. 

She nods. 

"What day?" she asks. 

"Saturday" I say. 

"what time?" she asks. 

"11pm" I lie. 

"why so late?" she turns asking.

"Because it will be a private showing." I say. 

"oh.." she says. 

"How many people will be there?" she asks. 

I give a little smile. 

"If you're there?" I ask. 

She nods. 

I smile. "Just two Emmy."