The Architecture Of Attraction.

The Head Of ACG Global.

The hot water was running down his shoulders first as he came standing under his brand new steam shower, the warmth sending shivers over the spots the water wasn't reaching yet, but not loosening the tightly clenched muscles of his neck. It never did. Not that he was actually complaining though, because life was good for Saul Hudson right now and the small disadvantages of a full time office job really weren't overshadowing the fact that he was successful.

Well, to be precise, being successful in the real estate sector was one thing, but being the majority owner and head of ACG Global was another. It not only made him one of the richest men in NYC, but also one of the most influential since they had created contemporary designs defining the cityscapes all around the globe. They had redefined the identities of metropolises. They were an agency for visionary developers with him in the public spotlight.

He was a power player and he only played high class, because yes, he was damn good at it.

He sighed sharply, letting the steamy water splash all over his face and neck, pouring down his chest and making him shiver as he tried to loosen the hair tail that was holding his dark locks in a strict, tight ponytail. It were the only few minutes of actual relaxation he could have. Afterwards he would just throw himself into work again, spending hours and hours in front of his laptop until his eyes refused to stay open by themselves. It was always like that, always had been as success never felt into his lap. He worked hard and he worked much, but when he tried to be real honest to himself the explanation for his late night work shifts was much easier:

He may be a billionaire but he was lonely and bored. Bored of everything- his $7 million apartment, his roofgarden pool, his Corvette, his expensive shoes and suits and watches and his goddamn steam shower with which he had the closest to call a relationship with after Perla had left him.

But maybe that was exactly the way it had to be- a career or a social life. If he asked Perla it was all his fault. Everything. Because he had no time for her, because he wasn't interested in sex anymore, because he cheated on her every time he came home later than expected, because he refused to call her, because he was a selfish, arrogant, rich bastard with a tendency for bureaucratic eccentricity-

He had heard it all and expect from the fact that he was an arrogant, rich bastard and probably a highly addicted workaholic, it wasn't even true. In retrospect he could just guess that rich had been the final keyword why they had been marrying after all, although money really wasn't one of Perla's most important problems if you considered her surely unhealthy jealousy and her plain, malicious will for the world to turn around her.

But over thinking wasn't helping at all. He could ask himself all over and over again why he had married her, how he could ever have thought that he was in love with her, but it wouldn't make it any better (something he had learned within the last months), because wasted time was lost time he couldn't gain again and in his circles you couldn't allow yourself to mourn after lost things.

Sounded logical...but still it wasn't changing the fact that he was lonely as fuck and not even his new Armani bathrobe could manage to make him feel any better.

With a deep sigh he turned the shower off, drying himself sloppily, before slipping into implied bathrobe and walking over into the living room to sit down and open his laptop to check his mails.

A few from customers, two from his Dad and one with the strange topic "Whazzup fucker?!" on which he clicked first.

Send: 19:56, steven.adler@acg-global.com

Title says it all right?! Go check the links above. Ya need to get laid and you know that, so don't even think of simply deleting my mail. Ya know Paul from the statistic section? -Yeah that short, ugly motherfucker, why did you hire him again?- he apparently found that german chick, his girlfriend Heidi at doubleheart.com and man she's freakin' hot. Now stop waxing the jack and try. See ya tmr, Slasher!