Irene was also born with a silver spoon in her mouth, - well, maybe a bronze spoon, but nonetheless into a family who didn’t lack any comfort. They had met in high school and soon fell head over heels for each other. But being in high school can be dramatic and so they would break up over small things, acting like it was the end of the world, then getting back together like nothing had happened at all. They never did grow out of their on-again, off-again relationship phase, though the breakups didn’t happen as frequently anymore now that they were out of college. 

Eve came back with an expensive bottle of red wine she had found in the wine cellar. “Ta-da! Here we go. I think I heard a sommelier recommend this sort of wine for this kind of meal once…”, Eve said, lost in thought, but with a smile still on her face. “I think it was when we were in France last summer or was it Italy, I can’t quite remember… either way, it should be fine!”. Irene smiled back, but there was some frustration hidden in her eyes. Eve had shown up late for the date night and although Irene was close enough with the family to feel welcome in their home even without Eve by her side, it had irked her that Eve had been late to almost all of their meetings lately. Eve also hadn’t dressed up for this date night, instead she was looking a bit disheveled, with her hair unwashed and her clothes noticeably ill fitting, like she had bought the wrong size without realizing. Irene had an eye for clothes as she worked as a seamstress in a small boutique in one of the buildings her family owned. They had gifted her the space right after graduation and Irene had wasted no time in setting up her atelier and boutique, which she named The Safety Pin as she hoped it would be a safe space for anyone looking for clothes that weren’t easily available in your ordinary shopping mall. Her stance was that how you dress yourself can be a very important part of how you express your identity and how you present yourself to the world and so everyone should be able to walk into a store and find something that fits them and that they feel comfortable in. There are a lot of people who have never thought twice before going into any clothing store, as the designs and sizes are meant for people like them. Meanwhile, going into a store knowing it’ll be uncomfortable since you don’t fit the norm can be a very traumatic and humiliating experience. 

The second bottle was gone before the date was over, no thanks to Irene. Most of it had made its way down Eve’s throat safely, some of it had spilled and stained her ill-fitting clothes as her grip on the glass got less steady as the night went on. Eve had just giggled and dismissed it with an exaggerated “oops!”. They had then moved on to talking about Mrs. Montfort’s birthday gala, she was turning 50 in six months and had asked her daughter and Irene to perform a song on the piano for her as a present. The birthday event was going to be a big spectacle and the invitations had already been sent to hundreds of her guests. Eve had a lovely voice, talented enough to be a professional singer if she so wished, but she lacked ambition. Irene, like many rich kids, had grown up playing an instrument, and in her case it was the piano. She had more talent with cooking and sewing, but wasn’t tone deaf - still she definitely needed a lot of practice if she wanted to pull the performance off as she hadn’t touched a piano in years. They were discussing a schedule for practicing, Eve didn’t seem too excited about it, but agreed to help Irene with it. 

“I’m not much for performing. Stage fright, you know?”, Eve laughed, as she talked unnecessarily loudly, “Ironic, isn’t it? I’m so outgoing otherwise.”. Irene agreed that it was a bit odd for someone as extroverted as her girlfriend to be uncomfortable on stage, but she had witnessed it firsthand in high school everytime they had to prepare a presentation for class. Still, she knew Eve could do it, her stage fright wasn’t debilitating and usually the nerves passed if she was on stage long enough. Irene reminded Eve of this to which she responded good naturedly with a laugh as she agreed. A slight slur in her speech could be detected as she said, “yessh, you’re right.”. Irene used to find Eve’s red cheeks, clumsy hands and slightly slurred speech cute when they were teenagers sneaking a bottle from Mr. and Mrs. Montfort’s cellar, but not so much anymore. 

Irene wanted to make sure everything went perfectly for Mrs. Montfort’s celebration, so she had planned to design a dress for Eve to wear for the performance, she had already started gathering ideas and drawing sketches, letting her creativity flow. “You should come by the atelier soon so I can take your measurements for the dress.”, Irene suggested, but Eve was on her phone texting under the table, so her distracted agreement seemed a bit unreliable. Irene wondered if Eve would remember to stop by the boutique or if she would have to remind her again tomorrow about it. The texting also made Irene feel antsy, who was Eve texting in the middle of their date? She couldn’t resist asking, even though she knew she would sound jealous or like she was nagging. “Who are you texting, is it something important?”, Irene asked, feigning nonchalance as best as she could, picking at the last of the dessert she had made that was still left on her plate. “No, just Audrey, give me a sec.”, Eve replied, and then returned to texting. Audrey and Eve had been best friends since they were children, inseparable really - some might say, co-dependent even - but they wouldn’t hear it. Irene had always felt a bit of jealousy towards how close her girlfriend was with another woman, even though she logically knew there wasn’t anything romantic going on between those two, she still couldn’t help but envy the deep connection they had with each other. Audrey and Eve had never made Irene feel like a third wheel when they were all together and Irene had her own friends, but jealousy isn’t always rational and sometimes you can be jealous of a platonic connection as well. Irene didn’t feel any animosity towards Audrey, mostly she just felt frustrated at herself for having these feelings. 

The date night was coming to an end, but instead of ending up with a romantic night in each other's arms, Irene decided not stay over, claiming she had to be at the atelier early in the morning. In reality, she was feeling disappointed with how the date had played out and she needed some time to herself to process her feelings. After a quick kiss goodbye and an automatic “love you, good night.” at the door, Irene was off. Eve was feeling pleasantly buzzed and didn’t seem to notice anything was off, instead she decided to pour herself a glass of whiskey before going to bed alone.