Jinx

Two years and a few months ago. Monday evening.

The door of my shitty apartment banged loudly and a typical Californian surfer jock barged fuming in my living-room, or kitchen, or bedroom, so to say in my one room flat.

“Hey Ayden. What’s up?” I asked, happily grinning and waving my hand at him like a little kid.

Eleven thirty. It was rather late. Even for Ayden. Must be important.

“Could be better.” He groaned, shaking or rather crushing my hand in his. “You?”

“Tired. I worked till ten and it was crowded.” I replied glancing hesitantly behind him.

Right now, I hoped my door was still on its hinges and the wall hadn’t collapsed yet. My door was quite delicate and Ayden as careful as an elephant. Yeah, my apartment was that shitty, because I was kind of poor. I had been working as a waiter at a club every evenings of the week but one since I turned eighteen but my wage was barely enough to pay for the rent, and bear the food expenses, once the college fees were deducted.

Becoming a reporter, specialised in the economical and political topics was my aim. As a consequence, going to college was one of the few things I was not to give up on. I was ready to starve a few weeks, filling my stomach with water to soften my hunger, just so I could complete my education. Knowledge is power. So, I worked my ass out everyday to the point of exhausting myself. I had a goal and I was happy to do every single thing that could bring me closer to fulfil it.

Ayden scoffed lightly, reminding me of his presence. He nervously took a fag from his packet and lighted it with a flick of the silver lighter I bought him for his previous birthday. I got up from my chair, grabbed the ashtray lying on the floor near my bed and gave it to him. Ayden sprawled on my bed and stretched slightly, looking around his surroundings, probably checking if, by miracle, I could have bought something new that could strike his interest. No need to say there was no chance at all he found anything and, disappointed, he directed his gaze at surely the most interesting thing around: the floor.

My apartment was really plain. The walls were an indescribable colour, between green, cream and maroon, seeming always dirty, crumbling from the weigh of years. Nasty cracks were spreading for almost every corner, making me wonder when they would finally collapse. I couldn’t even put up posters to hide the crap, because the last time I had tried to push a pin in it, I had found myself with a piece of plaster in the hand and a hole wide enough to allow me to say hi to my neighbour for the first time.

Near the door was my so-called kitchen: a twenty years old fridge, a few wonky cupboards and next to the sink, something that resembled an oven which actually worked sometimes pretty well. Sometimes being the key word. On the wall opposite from the door was a large window facing the street. The building in front of my apartment complex was like twenty floors tall and I was on the sixth floor, without lift of course. So I practically live all the time in a comforting darkness. If I wanted to know the weather, I could always take my ass out and check. I had placed my desk under the window so that I could work without lighting the room, and that was where I was currently sitting.

On my right was an unsteady shelf full of books and notebooks from my lessons. On my left were my bed and a door leading to the tiny bathroom. A shower box, a toilet and a sink, nothing much. Why did I live in this shitty hole? The rent was the lowest I found and, remember, I’m poor.


Ayden sighed and exhaled some smoke in round fluffy clouds. No matter how many times I had seen them, these white circles of smoke floating in the air still kept their magical impact on me. Guess I’m quite a romantic one. Or not. Ayden pulled his shoulder-length dyed blond hair away from his grey eyes and stared at me. I averted my eyes from the screen for a second to glance at him, and saved my work before turning my computer off. Guess I will not finish my history of politics’ assignment tonight. I could see the storm coming just by the way he was fisting his hair. So he wanted to ask me a favour, a big one because he seemed at a loss for words, which was quite unusual.

“Marcus, man. I need your help!”

He sent me an uncomfortable smile and I noticed that the circles around his eyes were darker than last week. He was kind of hooked up on drugs, nothing big, but enough to be completely out of it sometimes. As for me, I didn’t do that shit, probably because I couldn’t really afford it. Or because I was not so keen on dying young. Yeah. Maybe.


I had known Ayden since like… forever… We grew up together, first at the orphanage, then in the streets. I was five when my parents died, and as a result, I don’t remember them well. They didn’t just die like that, in their sleep, or a car accident. No, it was not that simple.

They were killed, a bullet embedded right between their eyes. Clean, quick, no suffering. Except they forgot about the kid, or maybe they let me live out of sympathy. Thank you guys, you’re sooooo nice!

It was a hit. My father was a cop and was messing around in the business of the wrong guys. The local mafia if you want to know. Not the little scums that beat you up in the streets to steal your candies and lunch money. No the big powerful ones, who have tons of money, a very respectable cover, a beautiful but brainless pin-up holding their arm, the average two and a half kids, a bunch of big muscled idiots to do the dirty jobs and the backup of a certain amount of well-known figures of the economical and political scenes, who just had to look away to feed their bank account. I was told that they tried to bribe my father as well but he was way too honest to accept their offer. The fool.

So, as he pissed them off and refused to listen to the voice of reason, they decided to put their money in better use and ordered a hit on my family. As you know by now, it was rather successful. What happened to my family served as an example and warning for the other cops who decided as a result to consciously close their eyes on their not so legal affairs. Ignoring the matter surely didn’t prevent them from sleeping soundly.

I had no other family, so that day, me, Marcus O’Neil, five years old, said goodbye to my parents, my house and my happy life and went to the closest orphanage.


I was a quiet and secretive kid, not really interested in smiling stupidly to strangers so that they would adopt me. People were looking for cheerful kids who would have been happy living in a house full of laughter and dog’s barks. I didn’t want that and I was rather satisfied with my life at the orphanage. I was thankful for the food and the warm bed. I got used to life under the protection of this shelter: school, homework, household chores, repeating endlessly.

As I grew up and was finally able to fully understand the fate of my parents, anger began to spread in my heart. I was ten, delusional because I had just learnt the hard way that life could be such a bitch sometimes, and felt nothing but anger. Anger towards my father whose honesty caused the fall of his whole family, anger towards the mafia bosses, anger towards all these rich officials covering their asses, and even anger towards the other cops who could have helped my father rather than remained silent. Guess they were all cowards, or maybe smarter, depends on the point of view. You see, bravery doesn’t keep you alive these days.

It was at that not-the-best-time-of-my-life that Ayden became my roommate. He was fourteen, didn’t know who his father was, and her mother, the local junkie, had just overdosed in her bath. He was a tough teenager who opened my eyes on the harsh reality of the world. People aren’t all nice, you can’t keep watching your surroundings through pink glasses and you must fight with tooth and nail for every little thing you want to consider as yours.

The social worker was not glad of his influence on me, but as the years went by, we became as close as brothers. I smoked my first cigarette with him, had my first hangover at fourteen with him when we went in town to celebrate his eighteenth birthday, just before he moved out to live on his own. But moreover, he taught me how to fight, and I was pretty good at it.

That was quite useful to me because some stupid jerks at the high school I went to actually thought that they had a right to bully me. I was an orphan and I put some great efforts to keep my grades up and that was getting on their nerves. I stayed calm for a few months but I saw red the day they burnt my history notebook right in front of me. It was a pretty tough fight, three against one. Not really fair, not that they care. In the end, I ended with a light bruise on my right cheek which was barely noticeable four days later but I had broken number one’s nose, four ribs of number two and number three’s wrist.

I regretted it immediately when the headmaster decided that I was to be expelled for violent behaviour. The other kids didn’t even receive a slap on the hand. He didn’t even listen to what I had to say. He was disappointed in me because he thought that I was a good kid, had just realised he was gravely mistaken and advised me to leave without throwing a tantrum if I didn’t want him to warn the other schools against the danger I could represent for the other students. He wanted me to be grateful, but all I did was curse him to death, him and his fucking hypocrisy.

You understand, the parents of my victims, as he called them and that made me sourly laugh, had donated a great amount of money for the restoration of the school grounds and the counterpart was obviously to let their so nice children do whatever they wanted to. How unfortunate for me.

I even had to apologize to prevent the parents from suing me. I was dommed. The social worker was upset, and not so keen on letting me continue to live at the orphanage because there was a risk I could corrupt the little angels that were sharing my life with my weird and unpredictable temperament. Every single day of the past five years, I had behaved like a model student, always the first to help the paid help to make dinner for us, sharing every little thing I had with the kids, helping them to do their homework and doing mine late at night as a result. And that was how they thanked me, by threatening to throw me out unless I took counselling for anger management. Because I fought back against some bullies. How unfair could things be?

That day, at fifteen, I decided that I would become someone worth their respect without their help, just to show off later. I took my belongings, my books from school and a photo of my parents, and moved in with Ayden. He accepted me without a word and I was grateful for that because it softened the sorrow I felt after this double betrayal. I owe him my life because I don’t know if I would have managed to survive on my own was he to reject me.

I went to another high school and the state fortunately agreed to pay the fee till I turned eighteen. I began to work for the neighbours, going to the groceries for the old ladies, mowing the lawn and all that crap, so as to earn enough money to pay my share of our expenses. Not that Ayden requested anything but I was too prideful to depend on someone else, even him. As for him, he was working as a mafia’s underling, always on the road running some errands, and I really didn’t want to know the details. He was a happy-go-lucky guy, somewhat always in trouble but laughing at the misery of his life. I really did enjoy my time with him.

He always dared me to do stupid things as a joke and it was usually funny. Yeah, funny till one day, when I was sixteen, when the joke could have turned really bad for me. He had challenged me to steal a novel I didn’t even want to read at the bookstore I usually went to. The shopper saw me and chased after me through the mall, waving angrily his arms above his head while screaming and swearing at the top of his lungs. Ayden was laughing till I got caught by two cops, a fierce Hispanic woman and an unfriendly but okay guy, who were on their lunch break, oh lucky me!

Officer Rodriguez and Officer Todd scolded me thoroughly, forcing me to apologise to the shopper, who, after a rather long explanation, offered me to work for him part-time out of sympathy. I thought of declining but the warning glare of Officer Rodriguez told me otherwise. I swear she could be really impressive when she wanted to. I worked there for two years and saw the two cops almost everyday. They took a liking to me and decided that it was their responsibility to keep an eye on me so that I would stay in the right path. After all, I was the son of a cop and the police are a big family. Yeah. Right. Guess my father thought so too. Before he was abandoned to a sure death.

When I turned eighteen, after my graduation with great honours, I finally moved out to live on my own because I had some difficulties to concentrate at Ayden’s with the loud screams of the chicks he brought every night echoing throughout the flat. I decided to apply to the local college with the support of Lou, now Inspector Rodriguez, who offered me a laptop to celebrate this new turn in my life. I didn’t know what to say because it was the first gift I received since I was five, and it was an awfully expensive one. She was not rich and I didn’t want her to waste her money for a nobody like me. She gave me a warm pat on the head and told me in a big laughter “just say thanks, kiddo! You know how much I like you!”. Inspector Rodriguez rocks.

I found the waiter job at the classy Velvet Club quickly after. They were hiring well-educated good-looking responsible guys, accepting late hours and tight schedule. I was willing to do anything so, even though I was young, they gave me a chance. I had been working there for four years now, knowing all the bouncers, bartenders and a few regular customers by their name. I surely could have found a better paid work, but I didn’t quit because it’s a quite fulfilling job. Not that I like serving drinks to rich haughty people, I really do hate it, but the staff is nice and I truly respect Greg, the manager, who is a fair guy.

I’m twenty-two now and live a rather happy life, considering the circumstances. It could have been better, but it could have been worst. Way worst. Since I’m not really the type to complain, I’m satisfied with what I have.

Had I known that the decision I took in the next fifteen minutes would fuck up my daily routine, make me lose every single thing I possess and bring me down to the deepest layer of despair faster than I thought possible, if only I had known… maybe I would have thought about it longer. As the tick-tock of the clock brought me abruptly back from my memories, I wasn’t conscious that my life was already, slowly but surely, beginning to fall apart.


“Do you work tomorrow evening?” Ayden asked me suddenly, shifting on the bed making it creak dangerously.

Tomorrow was Tuesday and Tuesday was usually my day-off at the Club. It was my only free time in the week to catch up with my studies, my laundry and go to the grocers. Sometimes, I was able to gather a few hours to relax, to go hit the clubs or have a drink with colleagues at a friendly bar. Ayden knew all that. Nevertheless, I could have lied and told him I already had other plans but, you see, as the good son of my father, I was desperately honest. The apple had surely not fallen far from the tree. Had I known what was to come, I would have put my morals aside for twenty seconds and lied shamelessly through my teeth.

“No.” I replied calmly. “Why?”

“Well you see, there’s a rather important party at the Florentine’s.” Ayden seemed to weigh his words for a minute, taking out another cigarette to hide his discomfort.

As for me, I expected the worst. The Florentine’s was a very classy members-only Italian restaurant. The membership card cost a lot, more than I earned in a whole year, so that their customers were only extremely well-off businessmen enjoying themselves in the company of even richer people. There was just no way in hell I would put a foot there. Not even a toe. Yeah, since my parents’ death, I had some trouble dealing with the town’s wealthy community. Ayden sighed and wrinkled his nose, nervously pulling at the cuff of his baggy sweater. That was definitely taking too long.

“Spill the beans, smartass!” I dryly growled at him, seriously hoping that he was not going to ask me what I was afraid to hear.

He blew a large cloud of smoke and sighed again. It was really becoming foggy in the room but it was too cold outside to open the window since I had no heater and didn’t plan on dying from pneumonia.

“Look, a waiter called on sick this afternoon. Apparently he fell down the stairs and broke his leg. They were desperately in need of an experienced waiter to attend to the reception. They called my boss this evening, cause they didn’t know what to do in a so short delay. It’s pretty hard nowadays to find valuable staff.” He explained to me, not that I was concerned so far.

The perfect staff of this perfect restaurant was short of one people, so what? Was I to pity the princes because they would lack one uptight penguin to lick their asses at their fancy party? Hell no.

“I’m to work there.” Ayden muttered in a dead tone.

Poor you! I will pray for your soul, I promise. He looked up at me and I stopped my sarcasm immediately because he seemed to be on the verge of crying.

“Tomorrow evening is the night I was to take Jen out to the Jinx. You know it took me two months to have a reservation…” His voice trembled lightly and he lowered his eyes to stare at the floor. Seems to be something interesting there, maybe I should check.

So that was already tomorrow? Damn! Why did it have to be that tomorrow? Shit! Jenny was a nice girl, a real sweetheart, and she deserved some respect to have lasted so long as Ayden’s girlfriend. He used to be a player, changing girl every few weeks, hitting on random bitches at shady bars, most of the time too drunk or high to remember his night the next morning.

When he turned twenty-six a few months ago, I suggested him deadly serious that it was maybe time to say goodbye to his messy lifestyle and settle down a little. He laughed at me but a one night-stand without a condom frightened him enough to sober and think for an entire afternoon. He followed my advice. He met Jenny a few weeks later on the college campus while waiting for me. She’s really an angel and probably the better thing that happened to Ayden.

However, they had some difficulties to see each others between Jen’s tight schedule and Ayden’s unpredictable assignments. He had planned this perfect night hoping that, for once, they could enjoy some great time together. Let’s say that the Jinx is just the fanciest club at the moment, and it takes quite some time, apparently two months, for us, commoners, to have a chance to actually step inside instead of drooling in front of the queue waiting by the front door.

Good music, original cocktails, all the ingredients were there to spend a cool night in heaven for those who fancy partying. Ayden was like a little kid in a candy shop when he told me for the reservation. He couldn’t stop smiling stupidly for at least the next five hours. Maybe longer but I don’t know because it was late and he went back home. There’s no doubt he was still grinning on his way back. There was absolutely no fucking way to let this opportunity pass for any people in their right minds. Shit! Guess I’ll have to work tomorrow in the end.

“So…” I gulped as I saw him flush bright red. “You expect me to fill in for you tomorrow, don’t you?” I groaned because I was feeling rather frustrated.

I didn’t really have a choice, did I? Did I want my friend to forget about a night he had probably dreamt off for the past few weeks and which promised to be legendary? Of course no. I could grant his wish just by stepping a little on my pride. Not such a great effort compared to the happiness that it would bring. Plus, Jenny won’t forgive me if I say no. Ever. I suddenly hated Ayden’s boss. No, I hate that fucking waiter who fell down the stairs. I’m really mean because I think bearing a broken leg is enough to punish him. I can tell you. I broke my ankle when I was seventeen in a football match. The six weeks that followed were probably the most boring of my whole life. Hum… let me think… It’s official I hate the stairs. All meanies, I tell you!

“Listen Marcus. I know I ask for a lot and I know you’d like better to be hit by a bus than to spend an entire evening in their company…”

Hit by a bus, hum, it’s a tad too extreme for me. Let’s say a car and we have a deal. To his credit, I must say he knows me well.

“But you see, you’re the only one I know who actually works as a waiter and does a great job. Had I known someone else, I swear I wouldn’t even dare to suggest it to you.”

The buttering up was just… awkward and the begging tone he used made me a bit uncomfortable. Ayden never begged for anything. Hell, he didn’t even know how to say please. He was nervous and in a hurry to hear my answer.

So, I was a hell of a good waiter, right? I have a good sense of balance, am pretty polite and respectful, learnt and master perfectly how to put a fake smile on my lips all the times, smile which couldn’t be dislodged even if the customer was a complete jerk. My eyes were the only part of my anatomy that could betray me. Yeah, they sent daggers when I was fuming but the customers that made me angry were usually too oblivious to notice.

But the Florentine’s was like another world. Waiters were expected to bow their head, carefully lick the dandies’ asses till they were covered with drool and satisfy all the crazy expectations of the wealthy crowd. I’m not so sure I can do that without breaking down. Damn it! I fisted my hair and snarled. I looked up to meet Ayden’s expecting glance.

“Ok.” I sighed but this simple word was burning my lips and tongue. My mouth was becoming really dry and I’m sure I turned pale. Ayden bounced on the bed, threatening to break it and smiled happily at me.

“Thank you man!” He yelled, putting me into a hug. I swear one day I will choke off in his arms.

“Not so fast.” I growled in a low voice pushing him away from me.

He sent me an inquisitive look and his smile disappeared as fast as it had appeared. All colours drenched from his face.

“Here are my rules: any lack of respect, any kind of insults and I’m out of there. You know me. If that is to happen, I won’t just step calmly my way outside. So is it okay for you?”

I studied him carefully as he was weighing my words, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned white. I would be there on his behalf tomorrow and if there was a problem, Ayden Phields would be blamed. Not unknown me.

“If anything was to happen, I’d take responsibility. I’m the one who asked you for the favour. So you’ll really go?” His eyes were full of hope and I wasn’t the one to deceive him.

“Sure.” I nodded. He seemed to remember how to breathe and hugged me again. Yeah, yeah. I can be nice sometimes. Don’t get used to it, that won’t often happen.

“So now that the issue is settled, want a drink? I’ve got some beers if you want.”

I pointed at the fridge. He steadied himself, and took out two fresh cans. He held one out to me and I shivered at the cold when I closed my hand on it. He crawled on my bed, leaning on it facing the ceiling.

“You must be there no later than seven. The party will begin at seven thirty and I don’t know how long it will last. Hope it will end around midnight if you’re lucky. And there’s a uniform of course.” He added grinning to my ceiling and waving his fingers amusedly.

“Of course.” I snorted. God, why did I agree already? “I only have three courses tomorrow so I will be free around four I think. I have to go to the library to gather some materials for my next essay but it shouldn’t take too long. You can just stop by here whenever you want and put that fucking uniform on my bed. Still got the key?” I asked before taking a sip at my can.

I really do love beer. Ayden nodded absentmindedly. I stretched my arms behind my back because my heavy shoulders were recalling me of my busy evening at the club. Need a massage. Need to find a date. Then, I can ask for a massage. Hey, that sounds good!

Ayden emptied his can, and a few others, real fast, while we were talking about our day. Nothing happened to me today deserving to be said. As for him, he saw an accident between a car and a delivery truck. Apparently, there was tomato juice spreading everywhere. The people around panicked because they thought it was blood. They called 911 and the police who sped up to the location of the accident. In the end, nobody was harmed but the traffic jam pissed off a driver and the man had to be taken to the hospital for a nervous breakdown. Funny story. It was two in the morning when he left and I had only four hours left to sleep before going to college.


I cursed my alarm-clock when it interrupted my dreamless sleep. Another Tuesday’s beginning. As usual. And then, I remembered my conversation with Ayden. Tonight. The Florentine’s. Shit! I was in a foul mood now. I took a quick shower and munched at an apple while heading to college.

My morning courses were rather boring and I almost fell asleep listening to the monotonous tone of the professor. The bell rang to my great pleasure and I skipped lunch to go sleep on the roof. I was all alone as usual. It was quiet, sunny and peaceful. I let my mind drift off and I dozed for about an hour. My next course was history of politics, my favourite topic, and I was as excited as always to discover another unexpected political plot, more complex than the most tortuous spirit can imagine. It was great and it ended too fast.

I battled almost an hour among the shelves at the library but finally manage to find what I was looking for: two books that would surely help for my essay. It had taken me too long and as a result, I missed the bus by four minutes. Fuck! The next bus wouldn’t arrive till five thirty and I’d surely be late. I headed home as fast as I could, half running, half walking. Twenty five minutes! Yeah! I broke my record. But I was all red, slightly panting and sticky with sweat. Eck. I checked on the bed and here was the dreadful uniform with a note from Ayden. Rather a drawing. Of a penguin. He’s dead! I’m fucking gonna kill him! No, I’m gonna make him wear that shit, take some photos and then kill him. Why should I be the only one to suffer?

It was ten to six. I only had twenty minutes to take a shower and get dressed. I pulled my sweater with my T-shirt over my head and let them drop on the floor. They were quickly followed by my socks, pants and boxer. The hot water helped me relax a little but I didn’t have much time. I grabbed my towel and dried my body and then my hair. I shaved and brushed my teeth. All set! I put on my favourite pair of jeans and a clean ironed dark green shirt that matched my eyes. Not that I care but apparently Jenny cared. It was a gift from her.

I glanced for a second in a mirror, staring at my reflection. My dark hair was all messy and I knew better than to waste time trying to tidy it. Plus, it was rather hot. So I was told. My green eyes were shining with a dangerous glint screaming at whoever needed to hear it not to fuck with me. My skin was a little tanned. I was ready to kill. Ten past six. Time to go. I put my jacket on, checking the inside pocket for my wallet, and grabbed the fucking penguin suit I was supposed to wear tonight. I repeated to myself endlessly that I loved Ayden. He’s like a brother to me. A brother I’d currently like to kill. But still a brother.

I sighed. Right, I can do it.


I arrived at the Florentine’s five minutes earlier than seven, winked at the bouncer who didn’t seem to find it funny and carefully checked the access card Ayden gave me. Twice. He really doesn’t like winks. I finally got in the deadly quiet building. I asked at the reception desk for the locker room and quickly found it. There were a few guys in, straightening their already perfect composure. I said hi but all I got in return were disdainful glares. Great! So even the waiters are all high and mighty. I can’t wait for meeting the customers!

I changed as quickly as I could. I was not that comfy in the suit and the tie was oppressing me. I was ready at seven ten and wasted almost five minutes to find the ballroom, where the party was to take place. It was a large room with big windows decorated with golden patterns. The wallpaper was dark purple and contrasted elegantly with the cream tablecloths of the few tables dressed in a corner. Crystal ceiling lights were glistening vividly, making the outside night sky darker. It was quite stunning. As I was the latest to arrive, the manager, a small nervous guy, frowned and gave me a stern look while holding Ayden’s tag out to me. I clipped it on the pocket of my jacket like my one-night colleagues. So tonight I was Ayden Phields. Let’s have fun! Or not.

The manager clapped two times in his hands to drive our attention back to him. I raised my eyebrows, holding back a laugh. What are we? Preschoolers? He explained for ten long and boring minutes what was expected from us. Basically, we were to walk in the crowd carrying a tray full of refined canapés and glasses filled with expensive Champagne so that all the princes born with a silver spoon in their mouths and their princesses would not suffer of dry lips. We were to take care of their empty glasses. Then, when our tray was empty, we were to refill it in the kitchen and come back. How difficult! Make it my last sarcasm for tonight. Ten minutes for that? I could have make it one.


Seven thirty. A jazzy music, not too loud, set the ambiance as the first guests entered the ballroom in a concert of amazed “oh!” and “wow!”. I gathered all my might, put my business smile in place and began to work. Actually, it was a rather easy job, easier than at the club. I was transparent for the majority of the guests, too deeply involved in their so fascinating chats. I was lost in my thoughts and began to tire as it was over my twentieth trip to the kitchen.

Eleven thirty. Great! They soon would be too exhausted and drunk to have a rational conversation and fortunately they would leave. It was not so bad in the end. It could have been worst.

As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I gasped as a hand happily groped my ass. What. The. Hell? I jumped. Shit! The tray. I steadied the clattering glasses in an experienced move and turned on my heels to face my molester. What an ugly man! A man? Seemed more like a pig to me. Small, fat, sweating, with greasy hair and a lusty gaze. He was in the middle of a group of three other men who were laughing full-heartedly. Calm down Marcus. You only need to cope with them for another half hour and that’s all. Ignoring their insulting teasing, I sent them my fake polite smile.

“Can I help you Sir? Do you need anything?” I asked coldly.

My blood was boiling but I think I managed to hide it well. The man leant towards me and pressed his hand on my arm. I think I’m gonna be sick.

“I need company.” And I need a break. “I want you to join me after the party.”

Please? His hand began to caress my forearm and I had to count to ten in my head to repress the urge to hit him right now and here.

“With all due respect, Sir, it wouldn’t be very suitable.” Another play-dumb smile. Hope he gets the hint and leaves me alone so that I can shamefully crawl into a dark hole.

“How much?” He asked cupping my elbow in a gesture he surely thought was seductive but was all but that.

“What?” I almost shouted, taking a step back, eyeing him cautiously. Did he just say that?

“Cut the innocent act, okay? So how much do you want for your little ass? Fifty bucks? A hundred?” He questioned insistently.

He thumped his foot nervously on the floor and shrugged as if I was wasting his precious time. I swallowed hard as reality slapped me in the face. He wanted to pay to sleep with me. Damn it! There’s no way I’m whoring myself. Not even for two billion dollars. I clenched my jaws trying desperately to bite back the incisive reply craving to escape from my mouth. The other guys were looking at everything but me to hide their growing embarrassment.

“Sir, I think you had too much to drink. Would you please release my arm so that I can go on with my work?” I smirked at him, because if he was not smart enough to back off right now, I thought I was going to break him. The pig glared at me viciously, apparently bothered, and ferociously shook my arm.

“You want more, you little bitch. Are you even…”

I didn’t let him finish his sentence. My tray landed on his face, the Champagne happily drenching his expensive suit in a racket of broken glasses.

“Listen well! I’m not gonna sell my body to you so stop groping my arm, okay? I am not a whore and I’m not gonna spread my legs for a pig like you. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever! You think you can get all you want with your filthy money? You’re soooo wrong. I hate your kind the worst. You arrogant promiscuous scum!”

As everyone in the room was staring at us in a commotion of contained whispers, I realised that I had been shouting at him rather loud. The pig turned bright red, then white, and flinched, desperately trying to regain his composure. His lower lip was twitching furiously. He closed the distance between us and waved his not really menacing fist under my nose.

“How… How dare you! You insolent little brat! You’re nothing but a bum!” He fumed. I laughed at his pathetic insult and bended over him.

“Yeah, maybe I’m a bum. However, I’m not the one needing to sleep with a male prostitute to reaffirm my virility.” I remarked with a grin, eyeing him slyly.

Once burnt, I love playing with fire. Anyway, I was already doomed, why couldn’t I just have a little bit of fun? He tried to hit me but I dodged and made him trip on my foot. He landed loudly on the floor on his ass and began to yell furiously incoherent threats. Nobody dared to laugh. Guess they didn’t find the scene as funny as me.

I heard a soft chuckle troubling the heavy silence. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed a man smirking at me. Sandy blond hair. Icy blue eyes. Stunning face. Strong but elegant features. He was really tall, almost a head taller than me, and I’m 5’11”. His perfect tailored suit subtly showed the form of his hard muscles. His cold and impressive gaze made me shiver. The dangerous aura around him imposed fearful respect. Surely, he was not the kind of man I’d like to mess with. The angry manager stomping his way to me brought me back to reality. I put my hand in front of him in a peace gesture before he could actually make a sound.

“Don’t bother scolding me. I don’t give a damn. I won’t apologize.”

He seemed to hesitate to call the security but the already scandalized stares of the wealthy guests told him otherwise. No need to offend his rich customers any more. I took my move before he could actually change his mind. I bowed my head in a theatrical way and smirked at the astonished crowd.

“I’m out of here.”

I stepped back to the locker room wasting no time to loosen and remove my tie. I opened my locker then took off my jacket and pants and put them back in the locker in a messy pile. I was trying to pull my half-opened shirt over my head when I heard my locker close. There was a hand on it. And the hand belonged to the man I previously saw smirking at me. I was in my boxer, all alone in the locker room with that man but I was way too angry to care.

“What are you doing here? It’s staff-only so get the hell out!” I barked supporting his glance while fighting with the cuffs of my shirt. Another chuckle.

“I’m Julian Evans.” He told me, studying carefully my face. The situation seemed to please him to no end.

“I don’t care about who you are! Could you be the Pope himself, it wouldn’t change the fact that it’s a private area.” I shouted, feeling the heat burning my cheeks as my anger rose to the point of rage. He snorted.

“I’m the owner.” He stated calmly.

Shit! I’m in trouble. I managed to free my arms from my shirt while he took a cigarette from his packet. His hand was still on my locker’s door, as to ensure that it would stay closed. There was no way I could get dressed without him removing his hand. Goosebumps spread across my arms as he lowered his eyes on my body, meticulously detailing every inches of visible skin. I shuddered and pressed my shirt tightly against my chest to offer a little bit of coverage. My face turned a nice shade of pink as his gaze dwelled on my lower regions longer than necessary. Weird.

“So what do you want?” I asked, defying him with a deadly glare and crossing my arms on my chest over my shirt.

“You. In my bed. On your hands and knees. Moaning under me as I thrust in your tight cute ass again and again. Begging me to let you come. So, what do you say… Ayden Phieds?” He asked me, tapping my tag with a finger, forcing me to step back to prevent any further contact.

I scoffed as my saliva got badly stuck down my throat. I barely managed not to choke out and flushed bright red. My cheeks were burning more than I thought possible and my hands began sweating. My mouth went suddenly dry. How could he so shamelessly utter such provocative words? Are they all crazy or what? He was still perfectly calm, his perfect cold mask not wavering a bit, except for the smirk spreading from the corner of his lips. Fuck! Need to get the hell out of here. Now!