One Wild Night

Chapter 2: Plans

Sergio Marquina was pacing his room. Various shirts, ties and coats were strewn all over his bed, which was an unusual sight. He is the type of guy who always thinks, or plans, his outfits for the week. The whole fucking week! From undershirts, to shirts, ties, slacks, coats, and his thick-rimmed glasses, of which he had three pairs.

This day, however, was beginning to be one of those trying days.

His older brother, Andrés, and his brother's best friend, Martín, are going out to celebrate. They just finished planning and polishing their first ever bank heist. The schedule, floor plans, backups, gadgets and everything were laid out. Before beginning the execution from purchasing paraphernalia to hiring other crew needed for the heist, the two masterminds and partners-in-crime will celebrate to relax and chill. After all, they always say it might be their last.

But Andrés knew that Sergio will not be a part of any of their 'small-time' heists—and Andrés and Martín are planning a good few. Not because Sergio was the good, upright citizen he was, but because Andrés always knew that his little brother is only planning one grand heist in his life: printing billions at the Royal Mint of Spain. It was a grand heist 'dreamed' and formed by their father years ago, telling of tales how they could pull it off when they were mere teens.

Andrés and his best friend, Martín, were all brains and plans of various small-scale 'trickeries' because "that's how they roll," they told Sergio months ago. Now, their first 'project' will begin soon, but they will go out to that new bar that just opened, and dance and drink 'till they drop to unwind. And they are insisting Sergio come with them.

"Hermanito, you can't just sit around and read all day like what you've been doing all fucking year! You have to get out and meet people every now and then!" Andres was brushing his shoes while talking to his brother that morning.

"That is absolutely not necessary. Social skills can be learned by reading books and practicing in front of the mirror. Actors do it all the time and they win awards because they can convince people that what they were saying and doing are 'real'."

Andrés rolled his eyes. He was thinking if he should pity his nerdy brother or give him a good whack instead.

"Sergio, Sergio...talking to people will give you a good vantage of covering all bases when it comes to predicting behavior. Or in case you forgot, heists involve people too and not just guns, machines or bills."

"I know. But I don't need to do that right this minute. I will go out when I'm ready." And punctuated that comeback with placing both his feet on the footstool and continued reading his book.

Andrés placed his newly brushed black suede shoes in one corner of the sofa where he sat. He stealthily walked behind Sergio and swiped the book from him.

"What the hell—"

"Hey, no more reading. Go take that shower. You're going with us. No arguments!"

"Fuck it, Andrés! Give me my book!"

"I am fucking serious, little brother. I will burn this book myself if you don't come with us."

"Very mature, Andrés."

"Call me names all you want. You're still going."

"And what, sit in the corner and wait for a headache to come with all those loud music while I drink wine, if there is wine, in the bar, wishing I did not come at all?"

"No. Meet some women and flirt, dance, drink, and maybe, just maybe get lucky and use that huge anatomical accessory of ours that is just not for pissing."

Sergio was taken aback at that crude suggestion.

"Oh come on, Sergio. It's high time you practice to good use all the things you've read, don't you?" Andrés said with heavy innuendo.

"No soy una jodida virgen, muchas gracias."

"So you keep saying." Andrés sighed. "Hermanito, come with us. An hour. That's it. Drink with us and hang out. Then you can go home and return to your book."

Sergio looked at his older brother. He knew he meant well. He nodded.

"Vale. Just an hour. Then I will go home." It was much as bonding as any other, he thought.

Now Sergio was looking at his strewn clothing on the bed and was becoming frustrated again. Why do going out to have 'fun' at the bar needed to have some kind of special outfit that invites flirting and such? Andrés insisted he wear contacts, no ties, no semi-formal plain teacher clothes he was used to and was comfy with all his adult life.

Well then, he might as well wear a white shirt and jeans. And that's what he did. He wore an old but clean round-necked white shirt, put on jeans and grabbed his denim jacket to ward off the cold autumn night when he goes home after an hour.

He checked his wallet and saw to it that he has enough cash. Andrés told him not to wear a watch or bring any valuables including his phone so he left anything that can be stolen except for his thin wallet. No IDs.

He went out of his room and saw Andrés and Martín talking about the new place. They both looked at him when he approached them. Martín whistled at him.

"Look at you, guapisimo! Andrés, did you tell your little brother to disguise himself, or is this Sergio's twin I never knew about?"

"Shut up, Martín. Sergio is going with us as a favor." Andrés smiled while inspecting his brother. He nodded, then he got something out of his pants pocket. "By the way, hermanito, take these." Andrés inserted some crinkly things on Sergio's left back pocket of his jeans.

Sergio removed and inspected them. There were six foil packets of condoms. He checked the expiration date—3 months from that day's date. He handed them back to his brother.

"I don't need them. I'm going home after an hour."

"Just put it there in your jeans' pocket. You can sell or give them away at the club. Or throw them or keep them in your drawer when you get home. But take it with you."

"Fine." Sergio acquiesced.

"And, one last thing."

"What?"

"Never give out your real name."

"That should be the first rule." Sergio agreed.

The three of them headed out of the house, got inside Andrés' car and sped off into the night.