THE MASQUERADE PT 3: LIFE IN THE CITY

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Dennis was, for all intents and purposes, your average American young adult. Academics were never really his strong point, so he never bothered going to college. Working in his father's sweatshop didn't quite suit him either. Neither did working in some other place, or just working in general. What he was good at, however, was skating, and he was really, really good at it. So good, in fact, that he actually made money out of it by winning skating tournaments, giving him the freedom to get all the video games and pizza and chicks he could ever want. His parents always told him he'd never amount to anything if he didn't become responsible and get a job and get married and do all the other stuff other white people did. He stopped listening to them a long time ago; he was who he was, and he was never going to change.

So when, after a night of partying with friends, he returned to his flat to see a brand new three-piece suit in front of his door, with an invitation to a fancy gala called the "Chorus Sanguinis" being held on the 15th of March in the Adrienne pavilion in Madison Avenue, he was genuinely surprised. He couldn't possibly guess what he had done to deserve such treatment, but being invited to a fancy ball was pretty cool, he guessed.

"What's the hold up, man?" asked his friend/roommate, who was right behind him.

"Dude, come see this." Dennis replied.

"Whoa, man." The friend replied in awe as he read the invitation, chuckling in excitement and rubbing his stubble-covered chin. "Whoa man, this is huge. This looks huge man."

"I know, right?" said Dennis, taking the invitation from him. "I mean, who'd wanna invite me to a place like that?"

His friend looked at him incredulously. "Dude! Does it fucking matter? This is huge, man, I mean really huge." He struck the paper as he spoke. "What if this guy turns out to be, like, your future sponsor or some shit?"

"Since when did you become my manager?" said Dennis, sardonically.

His friend ignored him. "Dude, look." He said, moving beside Dennis. "You've gotta accept this. Even if it isn't your future sponsor, I bet some big wigs are gonna be there, and one of them could be the guys that puts you on the map, man." He placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "This is an opportunity, man. You've gotta take it."

Dennis was smiling now, all the potential opportunities now made clear by his friend. "Yeah." He said under his breath, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I'll take it."

"My man!" the other boy hollered, giving him a congratulatory handshake. As far as Dennis was concerned, he couldn't possibly be luckier.

The Correl-Hady law firm was among the most successful in the country and one of the better known. So understandably, it was extremely busy during the day, with over a hundred people doing their business. The CEO received visitors in his office at the very top floor of the building; a spacious, radial room with a surprisingly low ceiling dotted with white LED light bulbs. The clay red colour of the wall and the multi-coloured rug mat that encompassed the whole room, combined with the golden-brown roof, gave the place a vaguely exotic air, the illusion ruined only by the large window which encompassed almost half the room and backed only by the CEO's black mahogany desk. Three rather expensive paintings hung on the walls, strategically placed so that they would be the first thing a newcomer saw when he entered the building. And just in front of the door that led to his office was a large clock. It was deliberately placed there, so that he would never forget the time.

Indeed, time was very important for all the employees of the Correl-Hady law firm. Work was carried out with all possible haste, and at 10 p.m. all employees were required to vacate the premises, so that the real owners of the business could work undisturbed.