FUJIMOR h.s

8

"Now that was lackluster," Harry huffed and opened his arm for a hug, of which I ignored because I could see an angry David behind him, barreling through the crowd.

"Where the hell have you been?" David tried to maintain composure whilst being tucked in a white tuxedo. The slipping curl falling onto his creased forehead gave way to his quite obvious annoyance. "I called you, I called Arlo, I called everyone in god's name for you to be up there and eating on time and now look at you."

David's eyes shot over to me, in line with Harry's broad shoulder just shy of my forehead. "Over here chatting like you don't have a fucking place to be."

"Man.." Harry began with his head slightly cocked. Even countering the elder with his height and composure, David looked tiny to him. "Don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?" He spat. "A child? 'Cause that's how you're acting. Start respecting me and you'll get different treatment. This event is catered for you. Now get up there before I make a fucking scene."

Yet David already did, and anyone within a ten foot radius heard and directed their gazes to his not so graceful whisper. In any case Harry made way towards the table and in that exact moment the other players hushed their banter to address him. In fact, the entire room stopped, the chatter ceased, and a mic screech pulsated against my ears dressed in dangling diamonds. I turned and David was no longer near me, but swiftly walking into the room I had just left, Oxio and Owen passing with arms interlaced. I waved to let them know where I was but their attention swiftly addressed the flatscreen that happened to be blinking with Harry's face.

"I apologize for my.. late arrival. The food looks delicious." He paused with a hand on his chest, as if he had to regulate his breath. "I have a very special announcement for this evening. My dearest friend, Owen is trying to debut a talk show if you will. Many of you know him, and of his work-" Harry was interrupted by an uproar of applause, from men, women and nongenders alike.

I looked over to Owen and saw him raise his glass once more.

"Yes, yes. Owen has a very talented crew, I have seen what this man can do with a camera and what he can do directing those with said camera, as you all are applauding me, I applaud him for that as well." He began clapping with uncoordinated hands and the smooth talker I briefed that night with the kabobs was no longer holding the mic. Instead he clammed up and began speeding up his words whilst simultaneously saying nothing. "..Without further delay I present to you his pilot."

As if on cue the lights dimmed and voices shushed. Harry's face appeared on screen alongside a woman with big pearly teeth. They both sat on a dark purple couch. She began asking him a question in her very soft, coaxing voice.

"So, you are quite the ladies man, aren't you?"

He seemed feasibly annoyed by the question but everyone around me laughed.

"If you say so."

"I hear you indulge in all types."

Then instead of the people laughing in the room, the studio laughter prevailed.

"I don't think you should generalize a person like that."

"I mean it's true!" She looked to the camera for approval and another round of applause ricochetted against my ears.

I looked over to Harry who seemed to hide his embarrassment well.

"One more question for you,"

"Go ahead."

"Does the curtain match the drapes?"

Then ever so gracefully the camera panned down to Harry's crotch, and like Owen he sat spread Eagle with his left hand resting right before him. On long fingers he sported golden rings, ones enthralled in jewels and stones. "How do you mean?"