Her Confidence is Tragic

Thomas had never become a fan of Gwen's neighborhood. She called it "historical", but the small rows of renovated cottages in her neighborhood were surrounded by a depreciating city increasing it's crime rate on a regular basis.

He had offered again to find her a new place, and like every time before she politely refused.

"This home has personality. You can't just buy personality off a listing."

He smirked and leaned against the bookcase. "Sure you can. They call it curb appeal."

Gwen narrowed her eyes at the remark and restrained her bold auburn curls with a silk turquoise scarf. Thomas didn't bother asking her to consider a less conspicuous ensemble. Her ruffled white shirt and stiletto boots over jeans read more modern day pirate than heiress. He knew it would be a wasted battle, like the cottage.

Gwen knew what she wanted even if no one else had any idea why she would.

"Ready?" Thomas pulled his keys from his pocket as a twitch of movement by the sofa got his attention. He cringed suspecting a rat or other vermin had found its way inside of Gwen's vintage abode, but the creature slowly crept into sight, shocking him more than any rat could.

"Uh, Gwen?"

"Hmm?" She continued rummaging her purse, not processing the fear in her brother's voice.

"Would you care to explain how the hell a leopard got into your living room?" He pressed against the bookcase trying to recall if it was better of worse to maintain eye contact.

"What? Oh! You mean Bobo!" She dropped her purse to the floor and crossed the room to the over sized feline. "Silly, he's not a leopard. Just a fancy kitty!" She scratched under the animals chin evoking what may have been a purr, but Thomas was certain could be a growl.

"Gwen, there is no way that thing is a domestic house cat."

"Of course he's not domestic. You know I like foreign things. The man I bought him from called him exotic." She pressed her face into the cat's, "And yes hims certainly is!"

Thomas shook his head in disbelief. "Gwen, it can't be legal. Even if it is an animal you could keep, you would need a license or something to own that kind of pet."

"He sold me one of those too, so no problem." She shrugged off the conversation as Thomas had so often seen their mother do when her mind was set.

"Fine, but when that thing eats your face off while you sleep, don't cry to me about it." He stepped through the front door anxious to put brick walls between himself and the carnivorous beast. He ran through his list of attorneys mentally selecting the most appropriate one to call when Gwen got arrested for taking the cat out for stroll through the park.

Gwen followed close behind, but reversed her direction with a "I forgot something!" She popped back out a moment later with a book in hand.

"Since when do you speak Italian?" Thomas asked eying her copy of translated Shakespearean comedies.

"I don't. I just like to leave it out on the table. Makes people think I'm interesting."

Thomas evaluated her look for a second time wondering how she could think anyone would think she wasn't intriguing, well odd maybe, but certainly not in the normal category.

A short while later they were seated at their usual table on The Ivy patio. It was one of many indulgences he offered to keep her content. Thomas watched as Gwen casually peeked at the paparazzi perched across the street like vultures circling their pray. It took all his restraint to tell her they were not going to recognize her.

Gwen had auditioned for a new reality show and landed a roll. She was the only "name" amongst average citizens by being associated with her father's name. He had built a financial empire in high end real estate long before it was career trend of the week. He had sustained high profits through recessions, scandals and embezzlement investigations. Gwen came into a small fortune when he passed, and also landed on the pseudo celebrity radar making the production company trip over themselves to place her in the cast.

Thomas had to admit the idea had merit. It was somewhat of a murder mystery theatre, each week killing off a cast member while they tried to determine who among them was the killer. It lost its entertainment factor the moment he realized the producers were gearing the lead role of psycho towards his sister. What would land them better ratings than an eccentric millionaire playing a serial killer? He had the foresight to know the general public had a hard time discerning reality from television and put in a call to an old friend in the studio.

The following week, Gwen met her demise on the show.

She wasn't disappointed as she had the dramatic exit of being pushed out of an eighth story window landing in courtyard fountain. It was one of the few highlights that made any noise in the reviews. Unfortunately, it left her with a disillusioned sense of stardom.

Gwen ordered her usual grilled veggie salad then began her routine of meticulously separating each vegetable into its own distinct section of the plate. She also removed all the lettuce and placed it into the spare bowl the waitress knew to bring without asking. Moving counter clockwise around the plate she worked one veggie at a time before moving to the next.

"Mother was asking when you might visit?" Thomas hadn't bothered to ease into the subject. Gwen would be uncomfortable regardless.

She slowly chewed on her asparagus, a full forty three jaw crunches before answering. "I don't know. I've been pretty busy with screen tests."

Thomas knew the lie was coming before it passed her lips. "Gwen, you should see her. It would help her."

"Or snap her completely. Remember the last time?" A visible tremble shook her shoulders and the rose from her cheeks drained. She absently fanned the pages of her book lying next to her plate.

Thomas remembered it too well. He should have turned Gwen away as the nurses had already warned him Mother was having a difficult day. She had maxed out her medications potential and her physician was in Barcelona for three weeks. Since she refused any doctor but him, new medication regiments would have to wait.

Seeing Gwen triggered the memory of a small auburn haired girl playing in the mud while wearing her mother's new designer gown that was intended for a red carpet premier the next night. She had screamed foul, hateful insults that no six year old should ever receive from a mother, and she repeated each and every colorful obscenity to the grown but fragile young woman.

Thomas had yet to forgive himself for hurting Gwen that day.

"She's been doing better. Asks about you, how you are, what you like to do. She even watched your show. Every episode."

"She did?" Gwen didn't look up from the pile of tomatoes she was concentrating on.

"Even cried after your exit, but kept saying you looked so beautiful even when playing a corpse."

"She said that?" This time she looked up to find sincerity in his big brother's face.

"You know I don't lie to you." Thomas patted her fork wielding hand.

Gwen shook her head and pushed around a ruby tomato. "No, Tommy. You don't." Her vision slipped past his shoulder and her thoughts shifted. He recognized the look of a celebrity spotting.

"Gwen? Will you come?" He fought to keep her in the moment before it was lost.

She bit the inside of her cheek and scrunched her eyebrows together. "Maybe."

An involuntary sigh escaped from Thomas. Maybe wasn't a yes, but it was better than the stonewalling he had hit for seven months.

"I think that's Grayson Pax two tables down. I should introduce myself." Gwen dropped her fork and dabbed the corners of her mouth.

"Grayson who?" Thomas began to turn around, but was shushed by Gwen.

"Don't look! Sheesh!"

"You want to walk up and interrupt his meal, but I can't casually glance at the man? Who is he?"

"An up and coming director. Likes darker films and prefers casting new faces. Heard a rumor he is considering a script based off of Poe poetry."

"And you are hoping to get the role of the Raven?"

Gwen tolerated most of her brother's teasing, but not about her career aspirations. She refused to comment and rose from her seat.

"What are you doing?" Thomas' voice was admonishing and parental.

"Just going to say hello." She picked up her coffee and headed towards his table.

Thomas refused to watch, but the audio was enough.

"Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! Shoot, I hope it wasn't hot still!"

Thomas released a burdened sigh and resigned himself to play his own greatest role, damage control for his damaged sister.