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But surely, there was no glory in being a doll and doing as your told. That was the job of a doll, to hear jump and say how high, and get nothing in return. They couldn't ask for anything in return, and even when they got something, it was a bit of a shock to them. Wyatt sighed, not quite sure what to think about the whole thing. Hate it or love it, he just wasn't sure. Did the dolls feel anything when they were discouraged? When they were praised? Perhaps they were as selfish as any human, he wasn't sure he could say. That was alright, though, he decided. He didn't have to like dolls, he just had to put up with the one, and at least she seemed at least a little more like she had a personality than his father's dolls, who almost seemed to act as if they were completely empty; no expressions, on speaking. They just nodded and did what they were told to do. The worst were the twin dolls; those just freaked Wyatt out, honestly.
"Do you like cats?!?"
Wyatt's eyes widened as his focus drifted over to the girl for just a moment, before quickly darting back onto the road. That question surely came out of nowhere, and he had found himself hardly prepared it. Sunny had managed to stay quiet this entire time, and he had almost thought it was going to stay that way, what with the girl's focus out the window as of the moment. Even as the question happened, her gaze remained away from him.
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to regain his calm after the surprise and focus on what she'd asked him. Did he like... Cats? 'Of course' would have been the correct answer, but he was fully aware that it wasn't going to be the coolest answer, and he still wasn't sure he could trust the little doll with his little softhearted secrets. What if she was a blabber-mouth, too? He couldn't have her going around telling people that he loved cute little animals. That would almost be worse than his father finding out that he donated over twenty thousand dollars last week anonymously. No, he had to keep up his image as a spoiled-rotten asshat who did nothing but cause trouble. That would be the safest move. And yet, he couldn't say the opposite, seeing how he not only had a cat, but spoiled that cat with more than the cat even appreciated. Iago lived a pretty good life.
"Well," He began, trying to state his answer without really giving an answer. "I hope you like cats. 'Cause I've got one. His name is Iago, and most of your duties are going to be taking care of him for me. He's a big orange cat, and he tends to like cute girls, so I'm sure you'll get along with him."
Wyatt shrugged, glancing back over at her and raising his brows at the slump in her shoulders. That wasn't something he'd ever seen his father's dolls do, but then again, he ignored them all the time. The zero personality bothered him way too much.
Putting his eyes back to the road, he spotted the Tailor's shop on the corner, and promptly pulled through the traffic and down the narrow alley which lead to the parking in the back of the building. At least the place had parking, after all. He couldn't have handled the idea of that car getting scratched by another from being parked on the side of the road. His reason for hating the idea, however, was not because he cared for the vehicle at all, but only because the minute his father found out, he'd be getting a brand new one, and that was the last thing he wanted.
"Alright, let's go in," He stated, lifting up the door and sliding out of the car. "I'm getting fitted for the suit, so that's going to be kind of boring. You can go look through the dress section while that's going on."
Shutting the door, and hardly expecting any hesitation from the girl to follow him in, he made his way back around through the alley towards the front, meeting the familiar chyme of the bells on the front door as he and Sunny passed through. The owner's doll, a young man with slicked black hair and crimson eyes, sporting a sharp tuxedo, gave a sweet, slim smile as they entered.
"Hello!" He greeted, as he was trained to do. It was common for many establishment owners to use dolls in their stores for simple work, especially if the owners were getting older and needed more help. Employees costed money constantly, but perhaps in ten more years, plus the six that dolls had already been out, the doll would have paid for itself in work, though Wyatt just couldn't see the benefit in that. "Welcome to Lucas Formal and Tailoring! My name is Duncan! Mr. Lucas will be right with you in a moment, is there anything that I can assist you with?"
Wyatt pocketed his hands. He had half expected the tall doll to continue on like one of those automated phone answering machines; 'For Tailoring, press 1!' It was like talking to a machine, and Wyatt had to keep himself from frowning. Not that he'd held a smile all day, of course, but he had to be sure that his bored, unhappy expression didn't get even more offensive. "I've got an order under Roswell that my father purchased. I'm here to have it tailored, too."
Duncan nodded, placing some folded button-up shirts down on the front counter before punching in a few things into the computer with one hand. R-O-S-W-E-L-L. Wyatt couldn't help but note how fast the doll's spindly fingers moved on that keyboard, and looked back over at Sunny. Dolls were supposed to have specific areas where they were better or worse, weren't they? Or maybe it was just specialty dolls, he wasn't sure. He'd have to ask her about it later.
"Okay, I've found it!" Duncan said finally, smiling again. "If you'll please come with me, sir, I will grab that for you."
Wyatt nodded, before looking back over to Sunny. "The dresses are over there-" He point a quick finger towards the section for ladies. "You can go ahead and look around for something you like. I'll try to make sure this doesn't take too long."
With that, he turned and followed the other doll, hands back down in his pockets leisurely. Duncan fetched the suit from the back and handed it over, directing him to the little rooms where you could change, so that Mr. Lucas could get an idea for where he needed to hem it and tuck it. By the time Wyatt was dressed and out of the room, Mr. Lucas was there, grey-haired and wearing a nice suit, and Duncan had gotten back to whatever the hell he had been doing before they had arrived.
"Not too bad a fit in the shoulders, mhmm," the old man muttered to himself as he inspected the fit closely. "Need a little taken off the waist, mhmm. Two inches off the length, so short, mhmm." He took a step back, grabbing a pin cushion and nodding. "Yes, I think we can have you out of here with the suit in an hour."
"Good," Wyatt replied, pouting slightly and with a little more edge in his voice after clearly hearing the word "short" uttered, as he took a look at his phone. "I'm cutting it very with time, here, so I might not be able to stop home before that stupid ball."
"Well, at least you won't be late. And if you are, it will be fashionably." The man gave a light chuckle, though Wyatt only scowled at the comment.
"Right..." He watched as the man quickly got to work, and even before the man had started he'd been feeling impatient. Standing there was bad enough, and he surely didn't want to spend any more time than he already was in here. Honestly, he didn't care if he was late to the stupid party - he hated parties, there were just too many people there - but 'stickler for time' always made sure to enforce the idea of Wyatt's public personality. Kindness was a privilege for only a few.