From Eden

Chapter One - A Thud of Moira

Plumes of grey smoke floated towards the ceiling, creating clouds of grey mist around the golden opulent chandelier. Beneath the puffs of smoke, there sat a group of six young men, dressed in way too formal and expensive attire, each of them holding a cigar in one hand and a glass of nearly empty amber whiskey in the other. They were all sitting around a polished mahogany table facing the crackling bright orange fireplace. Clearly, none of them couldn't quite balance on their feet, their speech was slurred and they seemed to laugh and giggle at things that didn't make sense at all. Reginald, most intoxicated of all, kept flicking the ash of his cigarette many centimetres away from the ashtray that sat in the middle of the table. As the night faded out, and as the smoke from their cigarettes curled in artistic ways up to the ceiling and out of the slight crack of the window. This was their way of sufficiently spending the last night they had before heading up south for their last year of school, getting completely and utterly drunk, smoking their lungs to a crisp and wreaking havoc and mayhem. 

"Eden, you got the honour of hosting the last night before school" Reginald was laughing and looking at Silas. It was Silas's turn to host in his house before school started since the rest of them had already had "Make a toast, go on!" 

"Yeah, Eden, give us some of your drunken eloquent shit!" 

The room erupted in chuckles and whooping noises, a hysterical sight. Silas clumsily straightened his collar, puffed his chest and threw an arm of whiskey in the air. 

"Gentlemen, gentlemen. I have complete faith in all of you- even you, Evans, you slimy bastard. You'll 'scape the strangling arms of Actor Academy and continue whoring around in some big university, which you will later graduate from and whore around other realms of earth-" 

Silas stopped mid-sentence because one of the guys at the table made a loud rude noise while he was making his 'toast'.

"Is there a problem, McAlister, you stopped my half-way through my speech, you selfish sod"

McAlister was the one with the pointy face. He had a bold nose, blue eyes that were reflecting the crackling fire in front of him and a haircut that probably cost more than a young toddler's bicycle. He was (as per usual) in a John Varvatos shirt and shoes. You immediately knew, just by taking a quick glance at he 1.Came from a family that might as well be richer than God. 2. He was a snob. 3. He was the biggest cad in West London. 

"It's the whiskey, Eden, you can't possibly make a night's toast with this vile whiskey," McAlister said, matter-of-factly, adjusting his cuff-links out of habit and waiting for chants of agreement from the rest of the boys. 

Silas narrowed his eyes at McAlister and smiled. 

"I was about to get to that before you interrupted my fucking toast. As you all know, my father has provided the ultimate protection, and I mean the ultimate protection for the cellar shed. But God has graced you with friends who are sharp and determined. So, me and Reginald here," - Silas threw a hand over Reginald's shoulder "have slipped some treats to the hound my father has guarding the cellar, so hopefully, I'll be able to slip in there right now and get some worthy drinks without the hound letting out so much of a peep. You're welcome. Nos permanere contendunt"

A drunk cheer roared in the room.

Silas's father had been swift with the idea of young men having a little fun on their break from school, but things got a little out of hand when he once woke up in the morning to find most of the mansion's east wing windows shattered and the corridors trashed with vomit and what could only be described as wet latin textbook pages. Since that fairly funny night, Mr Eden insisted on putting a guard dog in the east wing garden by the underground liquor cellar to stop Silas and his friends having their late night shenanigans. Luckily for them, the guard dog wasn't that good of a guard dog, he actually liked Silas and instead of stopping him coming through, he let him in in return for a belly rub and some treats. So Silas could get as many bottles as he wanted without his father ever noticing.  Whether Mr Eden knew Silas and the boys did this often was unknown.