Masquerade

Part 1

Heads turned from all directions to see the latest addition to the growing crowd. The sound level dipped as he stepped into the room and tossed his coat onto a hook, as if gasping at his sudden movement. He scanned the club, disregarding gawks, and flawlessly found what he had come for. Time slowed as he ran a hand through tussled hair and made his way deeper inside. A glowing waitress bounced in through swinging doors with a tray of sloshing martinis and time caught itself. Giggles and flattery swallowed the room once more, as he became part of the throng. The hustle and bustle of club life sped on as if no one of consequence had just walked in.

He slid into a clean seat at the bar and ordered a natural drink after flashing an enhanced smile at the pale barista, who blushed and ran off to fix it. He sat back and waited, while keeping an eye on his wristwatch.

Occasionally a woman would steal a glance at him, and grin before turning back to her conversation. And men would pull their dates closer when their eyes met his own. Yet he sat still, indifferent.

“Here ya go, hun,” said the barista, and placed his drink before him. “That’ll be five,” she paused to gulp. “Five twenty-five.” She looked at the ground and waited for a quaint reply. Instead, he slid a crisp 10 across the counter, and left his fingers on the bill long enough for hers to skim over them. “Change?” she said and pulled her fingers away. He shook his head once and raised the cool glass to his lips as she ran off to gossip with the other females. He remained stagnant, watching, and sipped his drink.

Editor’s Note: Read part two of Masquerade.