Bastian grimaced at the mirror as one of the maids, a fifty-something woman who doted on him since he was a child, fluffed him up for his next interview. I never should have put that ad out, he thought as the woman fiddles with his clothes to make him as presentable as possible. He was sure that if he had longer hair, she would be styling it in whatever she thought the latest fashion was. He sighed. I don't know how much more of this I can take. Each one is just as bad as the last--why do I even bother accepting the calls anymore?
"Now, Sebby, you know how to act," the woman said sternly, holding his shoulders and looking at him in the mirror while standing behind him. "Sit up straight, don't scare the poor girl--she sounded quite polite on the phone--and BE. NICE!"
A swift tap to the back of the head made him smile. "Bethany, you aren't my mother. I know how to speak to people." He looked at the woman who was more like a mother to him than nayone else was since his mother had died long ago. He smiled softly for a split second, stopping mostly because of the feeling of his face pulling tight around his scars. He didn't like to smile much for that reason, the reminder of what he was. How he looked. He kissed the back of the older lady's hand and gave a half smile, across the non-scarred side of his face. "But thank you for the reminders. I may need them."
A knock at his door interrupted the pair. A man of about 40 opened upon hearing the gruff bark of "Enter!" from his employer. He gave a quick smile to Bethany and looked to Sebastian, where his smile dissolved into a stoic and flatly expressioned face. He knew Sebastian didn't find it very professional to smile at him. He looked at the air over the head of his seated "master" and said in a monotone voice, "The young lady has arrived. She's waiting for you in your study."
Bastian grunted. "Fine, let's get this over with," he grumbled as he stood, Bethany flitting her chubby hands over him to make rapid last-second improvements to his look. He flicked her hands away gently, like an annoyed teenager. "Bethany, I'm 27, you don't need to baby me. If I have a popped collar or a crooked tie, I can fix it myself."
The butler turned on his heel and began walking briskly away. Sebastian followed until they reached a carved cedar door--his favorite in the whole mansion. The entire room was dimly lit to accentuate the cedar floor and furnitures, casting a lightly red glow across the room--especially when the fire was lit in the hearth, as it was now. The walls inside were lined with books and expensive artifacts, as well as some pieces of art purchased from museums.The couch and his chair were both very soft and plushy--it was wonderful to sit in one of them and just sink down to comfort.
The man stood straight, took in a breath, and nodded while looking at the door. The bulter opened it and held it for his employer. Bastian strode into the room as the butler said, "Miss Blythe, I present to you Mr. Sebastian Bellvue."