Eden Windsor - Bartholomew's Mansion - outfit
Because Eden had bought her tickets so late, and of course Martino wasn't going to let her use the private jet, she was stuck with an economy ticket between a lady who couldn't stop speaking about her dear grandchildren and a man who looked like he was going to vomit before the plane even began moving. Then, there was the five year-old who thought that kicking the back of Eden's seat was the funniest thing he had ever done. What a kicker. Literally. Flights were probably one of her least favorite forms of transportation ever. They were a combination of some of her least favorite things, and yet they seemed to be the only way to get around anymore.
Eden was just thankful that her hotel room was clean and empty. She was done being touched by people. As she got ready for the party, she couldn't help the pit in her stomach that seemed to form. God, she thought as she looked in the mirror and noticed her tired eyes and a cut on her bottom lip, what the fuck are they going to think of me? She pulled out her makeup bag and got to work. She'd had practice at looking perfect, after all.
She and Martino had been fighting for the past few nights, keeping her up until the break of dawn. She would say something passive aggressive, he would take it too far. They would end up with Eden in the bathroom, cleaning up a cut or icing a fresh bruise, and Martino passed out in bed in their studio apartment. They could only fight at nights because the days were reserved for looking like a loving, happy, working couple.
Her days were full of press events, photo shoots, and paparazzi photo ops in little hipster cafes with her loving boyfriend sitting across from her. What the public didn't see was the silent grab of her wrist that left fingerprint-shaped bruises, or the whisper in her ear "Get your head up. They don't pay to see a fucking double chin," that sent a shiver down her spine in the worst of ways. She smiled and posed. Always.
Now, Eden had earned a bit of freedom as she stood on the front steps. Martino had agreed only the day before the party to allow her to fly to see her friends. She would have gone without his permission if she was able, but he had control over all of Eden's money. Any money she received went directly through him. He would claim it was because it was the best for her, and with him being her manager after all, it was much more efficient.
"Efficient my ass." she muttered under her breath, before entering the room and plastering a smile on her face. She walked into the room with a grace that could only be attained by your entire life and career being dictated by your looks. Eden surveyed the room, the familliar faces making her grin widen a tad, before she reminded herself that she could not get reattached. She toned it down to a mild smirk.
Liquid courage, thank god.. she thought to herself as she grabbed a flute of champagne and took a rather large sip.