Deserving | ✔

Chapter 41

Note: A new scene is added to the last part. So please reread the chapter till the end. If you're a new reader, just go ahead! :))

Stephanie and I are the kind of people who didn't love crowds. Especially when we're together. We are not into too much PDA, but we can't really resist not keeping our hands off each other. So we decided that we don't love crowds. We rarely attend any parties unless we know the host and our commitments force us to attend. And we have never been to a high society party.

So to say I'm merely surprised is an understatement. The scene in front of me took away my breath for a second. Maybe more than that. The whole party hall was lit dimly with disco balls here and there. There was a round center stage roughly about a foot elevated above the ground. There were plush cushion couches kept in the first three outer rings. Small tables were kept in front of the couches and each couch was distanced from each other by a remarkable length. After these three inner circles, there are five circles of booths like the ones available in cafes. These booths are distanced closer than the previous couches and they don't have the table. After these five booth circles, the rest of the circle is filled with armrest chairs. This is the center set up, probably for when the host gives his speech.

I look around the hall to see a full service bar on one side, and it is already crowded with people. I see about ten bartenders servicing them, which is a higher number than at any bars I've been to, and yet the bar is overcrowded. Turning around, I see a little band staged up in another corner. They are playing light music now, contradicting the darkness of the ambiance and the minds of the people who attend these parties.

On the third corner, I see a small stage with three poles. My eyebrows knit in confusion. Why do they need poles for?

My eyes widen as I see three women come out from a door behind in skimpy lingerie. They start dancing sensually around the pole. I quickly avert my eyes. Seriously? Sex, drugs, alcohol... This party is just enough to wake Satan in everyone's mind.

Someone clears their throat. I turn to see a man standing next to me in a tux and an ID card hanging on his neck. "May I see your card, Sir?"

I nod and show him my invite card. "Very well. May I escort you to your seat, Sir?"

He places a hand on my back and walks us to the center stage set up. As I walk past all the armrest chairs and the booths, I wonder what kind of an invite JP gave me. Clearly, these seats are based on the kind of invitation you have. And by the looks of it, I'm being escorted to the most expensive type of seat there is. Am I in a trap or in luxury?

The man walks me to the first row and points me to my seat. "That's... That's my seat? In the first row? Nearest to the center stage?"

The man fake - smiles. What is it with workers here and their fake smiles? I control myself from rolling my eyes.

"Yes, sir. You have premium tickets from your dealer P1. And this row is exclusively for premium '1' customers. I am Freddy and you can buzz me by the button on the table any time for any kind of service, Sir. I'll be right back with your complimentary drinks. What would you like to start with, sir?"

I seat myself in the insanely comfy cushion and contemplate what drink I can have that would keep me as less intoxicated as possible and at the same time not alert that I plan to abstain from intoxication.

"Give me a Shirley Temple with a dash of cinnamon and a slice of lemon." The words roll off of my tongue smoothly as I replicate Stephanie's most favorite non - alcoholic drink. She always, and I repeat, always orders this drink when she's the designated driver. This is also the drink she made me drink all night during the fatal night of her end. I still remember how she took small sips from my glass in between her Death In The Afternoon drink. It was basically Hemingway Champagne but she insisted on calling it by it's quirky dark name. It turned very ironic, when I think about it now. But... isn't it a little too dubious to be termed as a 'coincidence'?