The Beautiful People (Marta)

It was lunch time, but Araminta had anything but food on her mind. Well, she supposed that she did – in a manner of speaking, of course. Fresh meat.

Despite demons ravaging the world, some facets of life never changed. One such facet was the fact that in the world, there were rich people and there were poor people. It was just a fact, and trying to deny it was useless. And the way that rich people stayed rich was…through pretending to like each other.

Araminta Fletcher had heard of Marta Po, of course. It was her job to have heard of such people. The notoriously reclusive heir to the P.O. Group, he was a tough nut to crack…but Araminta had cracked tougher nuts in the past.

She walked over to the unsuspecting boy. Her usual posse was absent from her side – she’d told them to go ahead and eat lunch without her. She still had business to do, after all.

“Hi there. Marta, right?” Araminta said, flipping her hair. “My name’s Araminta, although you’ve probably heard of me.” She broke eye contact momentarily to check her nails, then stared back, awaiting his response.

Unsurprisingly, Marta had nothing but food on his mind right now. Largely because it was lunch and he wasn't eating any food. And one outcome of not eating food is that you end up thinking about food. A LOT.

For his part, Marta was once again playing the absurd loner, standing in the corner of a hallway reading his phone, largely because it was the only place he was guaranteed NOT to interact with people eating enticing food.

Marta for his part, had no idea why anyone would approach him. Largely, everyone knew to keep their distance. Except the blond girl approaching him. She seemed to know exactly who he was, before she quickly glanced at her nails. Marta's eyes actually followed hers.

Marta was actually reasonably well-educated in cosmetics, and yes, he judged them to be fairly good nails. Before he looked towards her and replied smiling with, what was technically not a lie, "Yes, that's me. Oh, and don't worry, who hasn't?"

The answer to that rhetorical question, was of course, Marta. He had no idea who this woman was, but he did know that it was almost certainly a good idea to pretend that he did have some idea, "Anyways, yes, could I perhaps help you with anything? "

“Of course,” Araminta said. She didn’t just approach random strangers for no reason! Time was money, and she couldn’t afford to waste either. Well, she could, but it was a bad idea to do so.

“I’ve noticed that you always sit by yourself. I was wondering if you were lonely, so…” Araminta paused, perhaps to give dramatic effect, then held out her hand. “…I thought that maybe I could extend a branch to you, so to speak?” That she had ulterior motives would be an easy guess for the discerning viewer, but she hoped sincerely that this schmuck wasn’t of that type.

Of course she had ulterior motives! Fostering good relations between the Fletchers and the P.O. Group was nothing if not necessary in this shifting world, and she was sure that Marta understood that. So if he were wise, he’d take her up on her offer. If not then, well, she wouldn’t lose any sleep over watching him sink.

...was this girl hitting on him? That was after all, what usually most people had intentions of when they ask someone if they're alone. In a great sense, Marta thought this quite unfortunate.

Marta of course knew nothing about this girl, except he naturally concluded any stranger would be preferable to his fiancee, who he was well-aware absolutely loathed him. Would not a totally random person off the street be an improvement? It was lost on Marta that part of his predicament was due to the fact that he was totally willing to make a long-term commitment to a complete stranger simply because someone thought it would be good for his family.

That being said, he wasn't entirely sure on that. In fact, he really had no idea what the girl's intentions were. And he decided to be upfront about that.

"...I suppose this isn't the time to quip the overused Sartre misquote of hell being other people. Anyways, in all honesty, I have absolutely no idea what you're proposing. But I accept."

He nodded, with largely no idea what was in store for him. He reached his hand forward, presuming most likely falsely that she was asking for a handshake.