[hr][hr] [center][h1][color=#e31e1e]Constance Monroe[/color][/h1] [img]https://i.imgur.com/voFe7CA.png[/img] [hr] [color=#e31e1e]Location[/color]: The Hallway - Top of the Stairs [color=#e31e1e]Skills[/color]: N/A [/center] [hr][hr] Constance was aware that there was something being said by the butler, and she registered the words in her mind, but... She couldn't look away. She couldn't move. All she could think about looking at the poor woman down there, was about her father. It was odd where the mind went when faced the reality of mortality or such awful situations. She just remembered how her mother wouldn't let her look, and insisted the casket stayed closed. Constance had begged in tears to see her beloved father one last time. She had tugged at her mother's dress, nearly screaming. It stuck out in her brain for so many reasons, partly because it was the last time she had let herself ever get so emotional in front of any one else. The other reason was now, as she watched the very man she had just been flirting with no less than [i]ten minutes[/i] ago look over the woman she had to wonder: Is that what his body had looked like? So cold? Lifeless? Broken? She had been so... rude to that woman. Dismissive of her almost. Why? Because of an award? Because the money and prestige would be life changing? Because she was a teacher? Constance realized she was tearing up, and turned to head to her room. She didn't want anyone seeing her like this. She knew she was going to be a mess, and she couldn't give off anything but perfection, even in the moment of distress. She didn't notice anyone as she rushed to her room and then closed the door. She ran over to her bed and tugged a pillow into her face before letting out a cry into the cushion before she let herself fall to pieces.