Disclaimer: Regardless of how tempted I might be to say it, I don't own any part of Gilmore Girls or its characters. (Cue for a mournful sigh.)
*
Cheers
Chapter 8: And You Must Be…
As far as Tristan was concerned, parties were only good for two things. You either went to mingle with the cream of society over caviar and shrimp puffs, or to drink yourself silly. All his years of living the privileged life had taught him that. It was one of the things he'd always hated about being born into a world of prestige and influence – a world of pretensions and carefully maintained appearances, a world where all that mattered was preserving the family name.
But for all his secret loathing for his life and all that it stood for, it still didn't prevent him from playing the part of the dutiful DuGrey progeny. His grandfather had insisted he make an appearance at the Lyndon cocktail party. And, as always, he had gritted his teeth, forced himself to smile, and complied, ever the obedient grandson. Even as he stood in the midst of the gathering, smiling pleasantly and exchanging hellos with countless members of the Hartford elite, he couldn't help smiling sardonically at his own lack of – lack of what exactly?
Courage, perhaps? The courage to stand up for himself and be his own man, instead of the man society expected him to be?
Yes, that had to be it. Tristan DuGrey, all grown up, and yet, still meekly living by his family's rules, still doing his best to live up to the reputation the public had bestowed upon him. Tristan DuGrey, the tall, handsome golden boy of Hartford, perpetually in the center of attention, and loving it. Or so they said. But as much as he privately despised it, as much as he hated the attention and the fanfare, he never had the strength to be anything other than that – to be anything other than what people believed him to be. And for that, he was nothing but a gutless little coward.
"What have you been doing, hiding away in Boston all this time?"
Tristan blinked, shaking himself out of his gloomy thoughts. Effortlessly, he slipped into full-on DuGrey charmer mode, giving the elegant woman in front of him another gracious smile. "Working, unfortunately. You know how it is."
"Of course," the woman nodded, captivated by the charismatic presence of the young man standing before her. "But you know what they say. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. You really should come back to Hartford more often, Tristan dear."
"There's nothing I'd rather do," Tristan smoothly affirmed, the lie easily rolling off his tongue. He bowed slightly. "If you'll excuse me, duty calls. It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Lyndon." Giving the older woman one last smile, he turned and walked away, seeking refuge in the laughing crowds.
"DuGrey! Good to see you again!"
"Tristan, call me sometime!"
"Looking sharp, Tristan!"
He paid no attention to the hazy voices, choosing instead to smile vaguely before continuing on his way, swept along by the activity around him, another beautiful face in the jet-set crowd. Off in the corner, Tristan spotted his parents, each standing with their friends, the lines of tension on their faces so skillfully hidden beneath big smiles and mindless social chatter. His grandfather was talking to another one of his business partners, and Tristan acknowledged the elder man's almost imperceptible nod. What a dysfunctional family they were, each of them actors in one big charade. But if there was anything the DuGrey lineage believed in, it was simply to keep up all appearances, no matter what the cost.
"Tristan, there you are!"
It was difficult to ignore the shrill greeting over the sounds of the party, and it was all Tristan could do not to wince as he slowly turned around to face the source of the voice. He smiled, albeit reluctantly. "Hello, Lauren."
At Tristan's half-hearted response, the tall leggy blond pouted seductively. "So, you thought you could get away with not phoning me after our little date last week, did you?" She looked him coolly, her jade eyes sweeping down the length of his body.
"Well," Tristan gestured distractedly, "I've been somewhat tied down with work. Forgive me."
"Of course," she purred, her ruby lips curving in a knowing, secret smile. "Don't I always?"
Tristan shifted uneasily. "Pardon me, I have to go talk to my father a moment. I'll see you afterward, hopefully?"
"Hopefully," the blond reaffirmed, and Tristan backed away, relief breaking over him as he walked off. Seeing more well dressed women eagerly heading his way, he swiftly ducked behind a leafy, voluminous potted plant nearby, emerging only after he was certain the coast was clear.
The was nothing quite like The Running of the Gold Diggers to put your senses on hyper-alert.
Tristan walked over to the buffet table, partly to escape the gaggle of women stalking him, and partly out of curiosity. After all, any party the Lyndons threw was consistently famous for two reasons – its extravagantly sumptuous food display, and its impressive guest list. And Tristan had mingled long enough at the get-together to know exactly who was in attendance (and who wasn't).
Grabbing a plate, his eyes roamed down the table, lingering every once in awhile over anything that took his fancy. Spotting something particularly enticing, he reached out, intending to retrieve the serving spoon.
"Tristan?"
Hearing his name, he froze, all thoughts of food forgotten.
Busted.
Cursing himself for his carelessness, he turned around, preparing to surrender to the inevitable flurry of feminine attention that was certain to be awaiting him. But fate apparently had other plans. He felt his eyes widen in astonishment.
"Rory?"
"You remember me?" A smile broke out across her face, incredulous, delighted.
"Of course I do," Tristan said, recovering from his initial shock. "I'm just surprised you remember me."
"Oh hey, you're pretty unforgettable, you know," Rory teased, her eyes dancing.
"Really?" Tristan smirked, pleased. "Why?"
"Because," she said, her voice conspiring, "because you were such a pain in the butt."
Tristan couldn't help it then – he laughed. "I was, huh?"
Rory grinned. "Oh, without a doubt."
"So," Tristan ventured as he glanced about their surroundings. "What are you doing here? I didn't imagine you to be the, uh–"
"The caviar and champagne type?" she supplied, and Tristan nodded. "Well, my grandparents wanted me to come, to meet new people, stuff like that."
"Sounds familiar," Tristan joked. "So you've finally become one of the Hartford socialites, have you? I always assumed Hell would freeze over before Rory Gilmore succumbed to the lure of The Dark Side."
Rory smiled casually. "Just like how I assumed Britney Spears would become the next Dalai Lama before Tristan DuGrey ever resorted to hiding behind a plant while trying to escape from a group of marauding upper-class females."
"Ah, touché."
"Indeed." Her face grew serious again. "It's good to see you again, Tristan."
Hearing the sincerity in her words, Tristan smiled warmly. "It's good to see you too." Spying the elegant diamond ring glittering on her hand, he added hastily, "And congratulations. On your engagement, I mean."
"Thank you," she said, her voice quiet as she gazed at him.
"So, uh," Tristan cleared his throat self-consciously. "How've you been?"
"I can't complain," she responded, amused at the expression on Tristan's face. This was the closest she'd ever been to seeing him looking ill at ease, and coming from the former Chilton Prep hotshot, it was nothing short of being incredible. Things had truly changed, no doubt about that. "And yourself?"
Tristan smiled, some of his awkwardness fading. "Well, I've actually–"
"Rory honey, I've been looking all over for you!"
Two pairs of eyes swung as one at the sound of the unfamiliar voice cutting across their conversation, and before Tristan knew what was going on, a tall man walked up and proceeded to wrap his arms around Rory. Nonplussed, Tristan watched as the couple exchanged kisses and loving smiles. But Rory's good manners prevailed, and she hurriedly disentangled herself from the man's embrace, shooting a contrite smile at Tristan as she did so.
"Good, you showed up just in time. I want you to meet someone," Rory looked up at the man, her smile brightening. "Sweetie, this is my friend Tristan DuGrey." Looking back, her eyes alighted on Tristan's once again. "Tristan, this is Robert Matheson – my fiancé."
*
To Be Continued…