06-26-2018, 08:08 PM
Of late, his life had turned upside down, which was a great feat given recent events. Almost to the hour after Sigvard ushered him from the Patheos stadium, Jessika called.
"I saw you on t.v."
She said without preamble. Straight to the point, as always. Jessika had a way of focusing on you until the entire world faded around them. They spoke for hours despite it had been the middle of the night in Texas.
Since then, media followed him everywhere he went. Famous for an entirely new reason now, it was a relief that their intruding questions centered on the Gift rather than calling him out as a hypocritical criminal. So that was a plus.
The Ascendancy would be displeased by the attention on him. His release from house-arrest had been on the condition that he lay low. At the time, Jensen had no intention of doing anything but--
The call from the Kremlin's central offices told him as much. Ascendancy was near to furious, or so Jensen thought by the tone of the caller. He was required to attend this ball. To that end, Jensen was sent to a men's store for the immaculate white-tie threads. He never thought he would wear something so grand in all his life. The white marcella was white as fresh fallen snow. The tails crisp and dark as the night sky. Even the gloss to his shoes were adorned with punches in the shape of bowties.
He swept his long hair back behind his ears with more product than he had used in years, more like the style he wore when preaching on stage. He even sent Jessika a picture of himself. Her response made him smile, for once. Still the most handsome man I've ever seen.
His heart was beating out of his chest when he entered the palace. He'd roamed these halls not too long before when staying there as a guest; so he knew them well.
Other than Ascendancy, who was currently heavily occupied, he assumed he would recognize no other faces. He'd originally requested that he be allowed to bring a guest, but Sigvard declined. Thus, he was unaccompanied.
He was not alone, per say. Ladies frequently approached to speak with him. He was teased for his Texan drawl more than a handful of times. When the first person recognized him as the man of recent news, he swallowed nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs and attempted to escape the ever-growing circle of people closing in around him.
He found himself near to some kind of bar, glad for an offer to refresh his champagne. He'd never tasted anything so luxurious in the whole of his life. That he had only been drinking for the past few years, his inexperience showed. Luckily, a warmth fuzzed his mind, and he was glad for the effervescence on his lips once more.
The natural gathering of people closer to the bar made him weave his way through. When he accidentally brushed against the backside of one man*, he blushed and quickly jerked away.
"Ope, s'cuse me, sir."
<small>*Nox.</small>
"I saw you on t.v."
She said without preamble. Straight to the point, as always. Jessika had a way of focusing on you until the entire world faded around them. They spoke for hours despite it had been the middle of the night in Texas.
Since then, media followed him everywhere he went. Famous for an entirely new reason now, it was a relief that their intruding questions centered on the Gift rather than calling him out as a hypocritical criminal. So that was a plus.
The Ascendancy would be displeased by the attention on him. His release from house-arrest had been on the condition that he lay low. At the time, Jensen had no intention of doing anything but--
The call from the Kremlin's central offices told him as much. Ascendancy was near to furious, or so Jensen thought by the tone of the caller. He was required to attend this ball. To that end, Jensen was sent to a men's store for the immaculate white-tie threads. He never thought he would wear something so grand in all his life. The white marcella was white as fresh fallen snow. The tails crisp and dark as the night sky. Even the gloss to his shoes were adorned with punches in the shape of bowties.
He swept his long hair back behind his ears with more product than he had used in years, more like the style he wore when preaching on stage. He even sent Jessika a picture of himself. Her response made him smile, for once. Still the most handsome man I've ever seen.
His heart was beating out of his chest when he entered the palace. He'd roamed these halls not too long before when staying there as a guest; so he knew them well.
Other than Ascendancy, who was currently heavily occupied, he assumed he would recognize no other faces. He'd originally requested that he be allowed to bring a guest, but Sigvard declined. Thus, he was unaccompanied.
He was not alone, per say. Ladies frequently approached to speak with him. He was teased for his Texan drawl more than a handful of times. When the first person recognized him as the man of recent news, he swallowed nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs and attempted to escape the ever-growing circle of people closing in around him.
He found himself near to some kind of bar, glad for an offer to refresh his champagne. He'd never tasted anything so luxurious in the whole of his life. That he had only been drinking for the past few years, his inexperience showed. Luckily, a warmth fuzzed his mind, and he was glad for the effervescence on his lips once more.
The natural gathering of people closer to the bar made him weave his way through. When he accidentally brushed against the backside of one man*, he blushed and quickly jerked away.
"Ope, s'cuse me, sir."
<small>*Nox.</small>