When the World Ends

14; Astrid

     "If they are the event planners and the professionals, why do we need to be there?" I ask, strolling down the hall beside Daye. He hands me the clipboard and folds his hands behind his back, raising his gaze to the ceiling.

     "That is an excellent question." He mutters. "You'd think the same company planning the same gala for the last fifty years would have it down by now. I don't care what the details are as long as it's successful and we can move on with life afterwards."

About ten feet from the banquet hall doors Daye pauses abruptly, suddenly stepping in front of me. A few seconds later, a loud crashing noise comes from the hall and then a group of boys emerges from the hall, chased by the school's chef.

     "...I warned you not to come back!" The chef yells, waving a meat cleaver in the air. 

Peeking out over Daye's shoulder, I see a group of tall, thin boys about our age, standing in a semicircle, giggling like little girls. One of them, who seems decidedly less interested in their shenanigans by posture alone, turns around. I recognize him! It's the boy who invaded my lunch yesterday. He clears his throat and in succession, the boys turn around, their laughter dying immediately at the sight of Daye. 

     "Elector, we-" one of them started. He had cropped brown hair and dark freckled skin. 

Daye simply held up his hand. "If you made a mess, you will return and clean it. And I suppose I'll instruct the kitchen lead to not cleave off your heads for disrupting the peace." The boys shuffle uncomfortably until Daye snaps his fingers and points to the doors. "Now, please. We haven't got all day."

We followed the boys, who trudged one by one, into the banquet hall, which was much smaller than expected. The ceiling was high, maybe just as high as the school lobby, with a beautiful glass chandelier. It was currently hanging near the floor, as someone was dusting it. The wall we had just passed held a small dais, and a wooden lectern. Across the room, folded tables lean against the wall and rows of stacked chairs wait beside them.  To my right, a plain wall with a set of double doors, and to my left, a bar-style kitchen where food could be set up and taken.

     "Smaller than I was expecting, Elector." I say, stepping out from behind him. "Do not many people attend these events?" 

He took a long look around the room, settling his gaze on me. "Those who need to show up, do. Not many students attend because they think finding a date is too awkward. It's mostly politicians and cops, lawyers, doctors and the like..." He holds his hand out to greet who I can only assume is the event planner. 

     "Elector, nice to see you!" He says, a thick Spanish accent dripping from every word. "Have you the plans?"

     "Indeed," he says, gesturing to me. I fumble with the clipboard and flip through the pages until I come across one that resembles a seating chart. Tugging it free from the clip, I hand it to the man. 

After a few seconds of careful consideration, a smile spreads across his face. "Wonderful! Whoever made this seating arrangement is brilliant!"

     "That would be my secretary. Feel free to thank her afterward." He passes a curt smile and then turns to me. "Come, Astrid. We have much to discuss." Turning towards the left side of the room, where the boys are huddled around a mess on the floor, we head into the kitchen.

     "Elector, thank you so much for disciplining those boys." The chef rushes over, shaking Daye's hand wildly. "This is not the first time they have terrorized me- not even this week!" 

I turned slightly, glancing once again at the boys. The one who interrupted my lunch yesterday had his back to us until we entered the kitchen. Now, over the bar counter, he was facing me. He must have sensed my gaze because he looked up at me immediately. We shared a look, and then he winked. I immediately swiveled around, back to the conversation between Daye and the chef.