What Has Fallen

9. Jax: Meet the Westfords

September 20th

7:45 PM

"Jax Sterling. VIP." Never have I ever addressed myself as a VIP. I sighed feeling silly. I looked at Carlos, dressed in his best button down and tie with his new leather jacket thrown on top. His usually messy curly hair, he had now slicked back. He definitely wanted to look his best. The bouncer looked us over. I'm guessing my black button down, black jeans, Trent boots, and vintage leather jacket didn't scream VIP. Plus Carlos acting cool and slick, didn't help the situation; he stood with his hands in his pockets looking around the place, kind of bobbing his head like a fifty's greaser in a movie.

On the second to last page of names, the bouncer finally stopped. The bouncer asked - as if I didn't clearly say my name, "Sterling?" I nodded. He hummed and grabbed a pen, "And who's that?"

Before I could answer, Carlos snapped his head the bouncer's direction and said, "Auto. Carlos Auto." Before we came here, I told him to let me do the talking. Of course, he couldn't help himself.

The bouncer raised an eyebrow, definitely in confusion. He looked at me, "My plus one."

"Right..." he jotted down Carlos' name, listened to someone speaking to him through his ear piece, nodded, then let us in.

The main floor, where most the guests wondered around randomly, looked just as expensive as most of the people in the room. A crystal chandelier hung in the middle of a glass dome ceiling. The trimming of the room and railings of the front stairs had been stained gold. The all marble flooring with a few imported rugs, made a dangerous situation waiting to happen. Multiple back hallways lead to places unknown; places probably off-limits to people like Carlos and me. At the back of this main room, doors opened to the back of this massive building where the golf course is. I could see tables and chairs, a buffet table and another large gathering of people.

Carlos started out to the buffet. Almost every person we passed gave us a glance of detestation. I didn't care. Carlos didn't care either. I refused to spend a dime on a suit for some event I didn't want to come to in the first place. And if I wasn't going to get dressed-up, why should Carlos have to?

Carlos grabbed a cheese cube with a tooth-pick in it and took the cube off the stick. He placed the cheese cube in his mouth. "Mmm," he swallowed, "Rich people have the best cheese."

He picked up another stick and offered it to me. "Uh, no." I knew my face now looked of disgust as he shoved the cheese into his mouth picking up another piece.

He said while still chewing, "I like cheese." I could tell. I turned to look over the crowd of rich nobodies who all thought they're somebody. Carlos turned toward the people as I did, now holding some pretzel sticks - which is an odd item to be at this type of gathering. I put my hands in my pockets, keeping an eye out for the girls. Carlos asked, "So, you wanna know anything before you meet 'em?"

I glanced over at him, "Didn't you already tell me everything?"

"No!" He shook his head dramatically, seeming very frustrated by my assumption. A server started by with a tray of wine and champagne. Carlos slyly grabbed one glass as he walked passed. "Each of them is so... uh..." I could see him digging through his thoughts for proper words to describe them, "complejo, peculier, peligroso de diferentes maneras."

I chuckled at the thought of those girls being even remotely dangerous. But Carlos didn't. I looked at him, "You're serious?" He nodded chewing his pretzels. "Maybe they've got threats, but," I scuffed trailing off.

His eyebrows raised and he swallowed hard. He quickly downed the champagne, then said, "Man, you don't know the stories."

"Stories? So they have rumors, nothing concrete."