The Imposition

Naval blue Armani evening suit. Jet blue Louis Vuitton silk neck tie. Plain Bean Pole pocket square. Grain Prada dress shoes. White Donald Trump dress shirt-french cuffed. Tom Ford socks. Patek Philippe Gondolo wristwatch, and the pair of Mexx cuff-links Eleanor gave me as an early twenty-third birthday gift.
All alone, that was me in the lobby of the Fairmont Royal York--waiting that is, for Edwin Chang, a Man whom I've never met. He was my chaperone for this gala, without him I would be left to myself, and I needed him in order to bypass the doorman standing outside the ballroom. A old Woman walks by with her immaculately groomed french poodle, both bitches wore the same arrogant face. She was followed by a young girl wearing a brown summer dress, freckles spreading across her face, concentrating at the nose.
A tall Chinese man approached me from a distance, he grew taller as he neared, until he could grow no more, stopping just at approximately six-foot-two.
"Edwin Chang, good to meet you Raymond"
"Pleasure"
"Sorry about the tardiness, I had to--"
"Don't worry about it"
We ascended to the second floor, and Edwin lead me through the double doors. I think we were the last to arrive judging from the number of people in attendance. The hall was set in a very peculiar manner, I never seen anything like it, possibly to encourage conversation.
"Hello, Raymond Wang...pleasure to meet you" I said that to just about half of the people in the room. None of which I remembered. Rich, old Man with their spa endured wives. I didn't recognize the wine that was served, I think it was Italian.
Edwin spent the first twenty minutes pointing out the notable people in attendance, explaining in detail about their enterprise. I didn't recognize anyone, page six blokes supposedly. Edwin eventually dissolved within the American crowd, I retreated to the bar, half drinking, half bored.

A Woman in a blue dress catches my eye, her hair was long and perfect, her posture was flawless, and her face was....Isabelle's. My heart falls into my stomach, blood is either rushing into my face or out of it, I felt myself blushing and turning white at the same time. I am ignoring the barkeep at this moment, forgetting to tip him while I grabbed my drink without turning my body. Petrified, I walk over. She sees me, and my element of surprise plan goes to shit. She smiles, stands up and awaits my approach. A perfectly poised Woman, alone?
"Isabelle!" That was all I remember saying to her successfully, everything else was apparently worth forgetting.
After what seemed like the longest minute of my life, she introduced to a Man who interrupted us. His name was Blake--her date, of course. Fuck me.

It is now an hour later, and this girl slung from my arm was named Sydney...Sydney Farms? I couldn't pay attention to her, although she was very well spoken. I secretly suspect her tits to be fake, but it was hard to tell. My eyes were locked on Isabelle, she didn't look back at me.
Something about the her cousin working at the same firm as Edwin, something else about my shoes. I am trying to think of a way for Sydney to accidentally divulge to me the authenticity of her tits, but I don't think that was going to happen, she didn't sound like the other brunettes in this gala. I'm surprised she hasn't grown tired of me, I barely spoke a word. I didn't know what I was drinking, Sydney ordered it for me, and it was disgusting. But expensive.
I watched very closely where Blake placed his hands during the dancing portion of the evening, I fought every urge to bite my nails. I rested my lips by Sydney's ears, and she held me ever closer when I exhaled deeply against her velvet skin. I was teasing.


At the end of the night, I was standing outside the doors with Sydney and Edwin, and Edwin's hardbodied friend, whose name I don't remember.
Isabelle exited a moment later, and Blake ushered a black Cadillac. Isabelle smiled at me before getting into the vehicle, I gave a very forced smiled in return, and watched them drive away. Our taxi came, Edwin and I went our separate ways with our (now) dates. Sydney suggested that I come over to the hotel she was staying, I only agreed because she told me she was staying at the Park Hyatt. I checked my pocket for my cigar cutter, and flashed Sydney a wide smile before lighting my cigarette.
Sydney was fidgeting with my cuff-links, I brushed her hands away from it, not taking my mind off of Blake, and where he was taking Isabelle. I can feel my face screw.
"What are you thinking?" Sydney asked me.
"Just, creating problems for myself I guess"
"You are very interesting Raymond"
You won't think I am very interesting in about an hour you fucking slut.