Ena wanders through the bustling Dublin crowd, absently window shopping. She is too preoccupied by the impending fundraiser that evening to actively ignore the common stares she gets every time she's out walking. As if the wealthy have no earthly use for their legs, she thinks.
She can't help the family she was born into. She tries not to live extravagantly, she supports small family owned businesses, fair trade and environmentally sound companies, promotes healthy living, she gives as much as she is permitted to give in accordance with her family's restrictions on her. She does what she can to promote compassion. She finally convinced her family to start supporting some of the local charities, knowing they only agreed to the ones that throw the most popular fundraising parties, dinners, and other outings. Their reasons were misguided but at least it is a better use of their money than the dozen or so sports cars recently purchased at the whim of her father and sister. Ena just prays that her family doesn't make fools of themselves at the benefit. Her father and sister have a propensity for drinking too much and flaunting too much, and just being too much in general. Her mother is always left to mop up the mess in their wake, years of anxious stress and a delicate constitution have made her fragile. Then there is Ena, right in the middle trying to guide them at arm's length so everyone understands while she loves her family she is very different from them.
She is drawn out of her personal musings when she notices a man standing in the path of a cycling tourist who is trying to take pictures while he rides, not paying attention to what's in front of him in the busy street. Ena quickly grabs the man by the arm, wrinkling his perfectly tailored suit and jerks him out of the path of the cyclist who continues passed unaware. In another second a giant hulking man has her wrist crushed in his massive paw. She yelps. The young man is brushing off his crumpled sleeve.
"It's alright Butler, it's my fault. I wasn't paying attention." he says, she recognizes the smooth timber of a well educated man. Ena is released and rubs her wrist hoping it doesn't bruise before the evening is over. He looks like he hasn't seen the sun his entire life, taking the stigma of being pale and Irish to a new level. His black hair is perfectly styled back from his face, he's tall and slender with manicured...everything. "Thank you." he is trying to be sincere but it's a rusty sound and more awkward than anything else. Ena nods.
"You're welcome. Have a good day." she replies forcing herself not to sound bitter and walks purposefully away.