[IF YOU HAVE ALREADY READ THE OLD VERSION, I SUGGEST BEGINNING TO REREAD FROM HALF OF THE CHAPTER]
Marty says, ‘What really matters is being there.’
Even as Mr. Linton went quiet, he retained the concentration of everyone in the hall, enough that nobody noticed as I raced down the balcony stairs. They silently watched him, perhaps anticipating his reaction —or maybe they were just too shocked. Then, they burst out laughing. Slipping into the crowd, I took a station far from the balcony, but close enough to observe the stage. Fabian's father stood as still as a statue, his flute of wine in his hands and his eyes wide. The white of his suit's jacket was badly stained black and his hair was drenched.
After some seconds of stunned silence, Mr. Linton's eyes began to wander, seemingly studying the mirthful faces of his guests. At last, they settled on me and our gazes collided. Gradually but steadily, his facial expression morphed into one of rage so intense, I felt it several feet away. I instantly knew I had been caught, and was about to get into big trouble.
Almost immediately, someone grabbed my wrist and I swerved to check who. Without a word, Fabian pulled me away from his father's gaze, through the crowd, and out of the ballroom. We proceeded into other rooms, crossing many doors and climbing many stairs. When we stopped, we were on a small roof terrace. It was empty, except for a couple of white settees and glass stools. Fabian finally let go of my hand, doubled down, and laughed.
"Did you see the look on his face? I swear he was about to vaporize you." He slapped his knees.
As Fabian did not seem nearly as annoyed as his father, I figured I should laugh along, but it came out as a highly awkward chuckle. He wasn't paying attention to me, however, but continued to guffaw, tears forming at the side of his eyes. After what seemed like ages, he sobered up.
"Don't do it again, though."
Looking up at Fabian, I saw that he had turned serious, signifying that he was indeed not in support of the stunt I'd performed. It dawned on me that pulling a prank on the very host of the party perhaps hadn't been the best idea. I hadn't really thought about it (thinking things through wasn't exactly my strong point). It had made sense at the time; Fabian was hurt, his father was the cause, the bowl of punch was right there. But now, I realized there had not been any clear-cut reason in mind as I emptied the bowl on Mr. Linton's head. I'd acted purely out of instinct —an instinct to defend Fabian.
"You and your dad aren't on good terms, are you?" I already suspected the answer, but it was a question I was burning to ask.
Fabian crashed on a couch and I sat down beside him. It could have been the dim lightening, but his eyes appeared to darken.
"My father isn't big on love displays," He began. "but he's always been there for me. He might be harsh at times, and demanding... and so goddamn tiring!" Sniggering, he ran his palm down his face. "But in the end, it's for my good. And I guess that's what really matters."
What really matters. For some reason, the phrase resonated with me, tugging at something at the back of my mind. What really mattered was being there when needed. And then I made the connection.
Jumping from the seat, I announced. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. A friend needs me."
Fabian lifted an eyebrow. "Go where? Home?"
"No." I shook my head. "A hotel. Royalty... Loyalty..." What was it again?
"Monarchy Hotel?" Fabian thankfully provided.
In response, I nodded vigorously. That was it. Fabian's eyebrow raised the more. "What in the world do you want to do there?" His tone was very astonished.
For a split second, I considered telling him the truth but realized it would probably lead to more truths, and before I knew it, I would have unpacked plenty of confidential details. Wide-eyed, I folded my hands at my back and played with my feet.
"It's a secret."
Seconds passed, and Fabian regarded me with a skeptical look. I sensed that he wished to interrogate me —thoroughly— but eventually, he sighed heavily, getting up from the settee.
"I'll take you, but you don't leave my side. Maile is dangerous after nightfall."
Monarchy Hotel was a several-foot building that lived up to its name —a lodging designed for kings. It had the outlook of a palace with a modern spin to it, the good old classic house that had been refurbished in the 21st century. Fabian parked his car in a space near the entrance and calmly, as though we were taking a stroll, walked through the huge glass door, which was held open by a doorman. The lobby was large and busy, despite the time of the day.
Turning to me, Fabian asked, "We're here. Where next?"
That, I did not know the answer to. "Ugh... I guess some kind of party... or... something?"
With a nod, he moved on to the counter at the far end of the lobby. I rushed after him, catching up in time to hear him say, "Hey, Michelle. Is there any party going on right now?"
Instantly, my jaws dropped. Even I knew that was a wrong move. We were meant to be snooping around, making sure we weren't detected by important personnel, not hopping in front of them. Meanwhile, the receptionist, a pretty blond woman in a suit, smiled on sighting us.
"Hello, Fabian. Is Mr. March with you?" She chirped.
Fabian shrugged. "Nah, just me. So?"
"Well, yes. There is a party. A product launch party, to be exact, but it's a private event."
"Where is it being held?"
"I'm sorry, but I've been instructed to not disclose information to guests without an invitation."
"C'mon, Michelle. It's me. You know I won't make trouble."
I watched as the receptionist, Michelle, pursed her lips. She appeared unsure of what to do. At last, with a deep breath, she stared pointedly at Fabian, a seriousness in her eyes. "Okay. But no one can know I had a hand in this!" She checked her surroundings, confirming we were out of others' hearing range. "It's in the left-wing auditorium. Foreign decorators came in earlier to set the place up. Something about them just seems off; they rattle my nerves. Be careful, Fabian. They could be dangerous."
"I will. Thank you."
The interaction rattled my nerves. I was well aware that I was walking into unsafe conditions, but being told that had a very bone-chilling effect. Somewhere in this building, a known mystical terrorist group was lurking, and while that excited me, I had to admit it was mildly terrifying. Glimpsing Fabian, I saw that he was oddly composed. I reflected on the conversation between him and the receptionist. The casualness of it, the way she'd easily trusted him, I understood they had to be familiar with each other. And as soon as we left the counter, I inquired how.
"My father owns the hotel. I pop in often."
Definitely, I was surprised, but I wasn't sure what to think of it, or the implications it may entail. So, I didn't think. Going down a long hallway, we came upon a crossroad. While the left and right passages were clear, two mystical beasts in black suits and sunglasses blocked the road straight ahead. They were huge, certainly nothing less than 7 feet, and had the face of a warthog. People crossed them frequently, but no one gave them a second glance. Remembering that ordinary humans perceived magic to be what they could understand, I wondered what they were seeing the two guards as. Really big men?
"Orcs!" I heard the alarm in Fabian's voice. "They're said to be very aggressive."
His fingers intertwining with mine, I sensed goosebumps popping up all over my skin, as a shiver enveloped me. Automatically, I attempted to break free from Fabian's grasp, in order to rub my sides for warmth, but he held onto my hand tighter.
"Relax. It's just an invisibility spell. Follow my lead."
We moved on. As we approached the orcs, my heart rate quickened, but we passed in between them, completely undetected. The spell had worked perfectly. Beyond, three archways serving as entrances to one location ended the line. Walking through one, we entered a medium-sized hall with three extra archways on the other side, totaling six. A banner reading, "FELINE BREW IS HONORED TO HAVE YOU. KEEP UP THE TIGER VODKA GOODNESS" was pinned high up on the wall. The shiver suddenly disappeared, making me assume Fabian had lifted the invisibility. Guests loitered and chattered, and among them, I searched for a particular person.
Out of the blue, I was grabbed by my dress and whisked behind a gigantic pillar. Claudine then glared at me, with enough venom to kill a snake. She was disguised as a waiter, donning a custom black and white tuxedo. It didn't matter that she seemed to be planning my murder, I was glad to see her, and I smiled to let her know. Claudine, on the other hand, was not having it.
"Seriously, Marty?" She hissed. "You were able to sneak out even after I ratted you out? And you brought him along? Seriously?"
Looking past her shoulder, I spotted Fabian a few feet away, watching us, but not attempting to join. He probably wanted to avoid Claudine's wrath —a wise decision. Sadly, that left me to deal with it alone.
"Should I tell him to leave?" Focusing on her once again, I gave the most reasonable suggestion, but it only made her angrier.
"What? No! That's way too suspicious." She paused for a second as if to think. "How much does he know?"
Clapping my left palm to my chest and raising the other, I solemnly swore. "Zero. I didn't tell him anything. Honest."
"Forget him. What are you doing here?"
What was I doing here? A very good question. After discovering Fabian's parents' wedding anniversary and the Algorax Chain auction were holding the same night, I'd been conflicted. I'd desired to attend both, though I was well aware I couldn't. Eventually, I decided to go where I was invited. Claudine had made it clear, she did not want me. But what one wanted wasn't always what they needed.
"To help!" I gave Claudine my brightest smile, but it soon flickered. "I know I'm not the most useful sidekick and I really don't know what I'm doing most of the time... I guess it's my fault. This mission means everything to you, but I treated it as a game. I'm sorry. Please let me help you. We're a team, and you don't have to do this alone."
Hopefully, I stared up at Claudine. My little speech had managed to leave her visibly stunned. She stayed mute for a while, making me worry that I had worsened the situation. When she finally spoke, she kissed her teeth, rolled her eyes, and folded her arms, but somehow, she did not appear mad.
"Fine. But you do exactly as I say! The plan is to observe, only. We aren't after the Algorax Chain itself, so we wait for someone to buy it and investigate that person. Got it?"
That sounded easy enough; I nodded in response. Claudine then turned to Fabian, who still patiently waited to be addressed, and gestured for him to come over. Hands in pocket, Fabian casually swaggered to us. He did not seem the least bit uncomfortable, despite the circumstance. The hotel truly was his domain.
As the three of us huddled by the pillar, I faced the auction. This was it. Whatever happened here would determine the fate of a quest that had begun the moment I met Claudine. A quest that involved parties too powerful to comprehend. As my fingers involuntarily clutched the pleat of my skirt, my heart beat faster.
A/N:
OTHER MINOR CHANGES MADE:
(NB: Old readers, revisit Marty's speech. The old one was CRINGE as f*ck. I changed it.)
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