Lucien’s knowledge of Carmichael Tech’s top guns is pretty much like everyone else’s: Nothing beyond the names and the stolen shots circulating on social media.
He had been working for the company for less than 5 years and in three days, it’s his first quinquennial corporate event. There are only a handful of employees left who have been with the company for over 15 years and in those two corporate events they’ve attended to, the theme has always been fairly the same: A tasteless costume-slash-masquerade ball that requires everyone to wear masks.
“So much for meeting and greeting colleagues and bosses face-to-face,” Lucien said, sounding disheartened as he fidgeted with his phone.
He had just finished a rather unproductive 34-minute call with one of the chattiest ladies in the HR department, who bragged about knowing everything there is to know about Carmichael Tech. In the end, all that brown-nosing and kowtowing Lucien had to endure just to get on this lady’s good side, were all for naught.
“Why is everyone so useless?” he mumbled to himself, realizing that he had wasted an entire week digging up information that only led to dead ends.
He heard the sound of a key turning in the front-door lock. Pyewacket had come home after running several errands for Lucien, who would usually allow him to go out on his own during his days off.
He walked in with a big grocery bag in one hand, and a small red-and-green colored plastic bag in the other.
“God, you’ve never looked so domesticated,” Lucien quipped as he rose from the couch to help his familiar. “Did you get to buy everything in the list?”
“Yes, except for the cigarettes,” Pyewacket answered as he took off his beanie and hung it on the rack next to the door.
Lucien grimaced as he rummaged through the grocery bag and pulled out a box of tea bags. “At least you got the right brand this time.”
“I bought these, too,” Pyewacket added as he placed the red-and-green plastic bag on the counter. Lucien stared at it for a moment before peeking inside.
“I passed by the Year-Round Christmas Store on the way back and saw those. ‘Thought you might need it for the party.”
“…Wow. How absolutely thoughtful of you, Pye.” Lucien could not hide the look of dissatisfaction on his face as he slowly pulled out a reindeer antler headband made of felt cloth, with two small golden bells attached to each antler.
“You only have three days left, Master. Yet I haven’t seen you prepare your costume.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’d rather be in my birthday suit than to dress up as Rudolph.” Lucien tossed the headband back inside the plastic bag and pushed it aside. “And anyway, I’ve prepared something for myself – for the both of us, in fact.”
Lucien was right not to leave Pyewacket to his own sense of style. Otherwise, he’d be a walking disaster.
“The party’s theme is tacky enough as it is, but it didn’t say the guests have to be as lame.”
Pyewacket chortled. “I’m sorry. All this time I thought you were too preoccupied with something else, that you didn’t have time to prepare for this party.”
The truth is that, Lucien would have cared less had it been just a regular company event. He didn’t care much about the annual parties. In fact, he didn’t even bother showing up at last year’s Christmas party.
But after a long standstill, the upcoming event serves as the perfect – perhaps the only possible – opportunity to inch forward with his plans. And if he wants to attract the attention of the most discerning strangers in the room, then it only makes sense to look his absolute, attention-grabbing best.
“Of course, I prepared for it,” Lucien scoffed. “You don’t have to know every little thing, do you, Pye?”
Oddly enough, Pyewacket felt a pang in his chest when Lucien said this.
“I’ll just keep this in the storeroom for now,” he said gloomily as he took the plastic bag and headed to the pantry. “You might need it for something else in the future.”
Lucien netted his eyebrows as he watched his familiar disappear into the pantry. “So uhm, the package will arrive later so make sure to receive it for me, okay?”
There was no answer.
“I’ll take your silence as a ‘Yes’!” Lucien yelled, feeling vexed at Pyewacket’s sudden cold treatment. He grabbed his suit jacket and made his way to the door. “I’ll take the train today, so you don’t have to see me off.”
Still no response.
“The fuck…?” Lucien mumbled as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
There is a first time for everything, alright. And this is the first his familiar has blatantly showed him the cold shoulder. All these years, he saw Pyewacket as some apathetic creature devoid of emotions, like a robot. But staying in the mortal realm for too long must already be influencing him.
For now, Lucien could only hope he would not start throwing tantrums like a child, or there will be consequences.
When Lucien arrived at the office, he was immediately greeted by Desiree Camper at the door. She had a look of mild surprise on her face as she saw him walking in alone.
Just then, her hand came up and slapped her forehead. “Chief, good morning,” she said as she hurriedly walked up to him and produced a clipboard full of papers and a pen. “I forgot it’s Mr. Menendez’s day off today. Here are today’s papers and invoice form you need to look into. This one is a bank permission to release funds to the printing team. This one here is for the excise tax that’s due next month. These are CVs from the three applicants you short-listed last week.” She said these as she flipped through the pages one-by-one.
Lucien fixed the rim of his glasses as he absently scanned through the papers. “And I need to turn all of these over today?”
“Yes, Sir. You can just call me to get them once you’re done.”
Lucien turned away and let out an inaudible sigh. “Do I have a meeting scheduled for today?”
“Uhm, do you want me to go through Mr. Menendez’s planner? I’m sure he left it on his desk – “
“No, never mind. I’ll just give him a call.” Lucien said, shaking his head. He thought about asking Desiree to fetch him a cup of coffee too but dropped the idea right away.
“Why does Pye have to have his day-off today, of all days?” He murmured as he turned on his heel to shut the door.
“Uhm, Chief?” Desiree stammered as she poked her head through the door.
“Yes, Ms. Camper?”
“Do you… perhaps have any idea… what Mr. Menendez’s costume would be for the corporate event?” The lady looked visibly embarrassed by the question. “Oh! But if you have no idea, Chief, I’ll just ask him myself tomorrow. Excuse me – “
Lucien turned around to face her. “Why do you want to know?”
“Oh, uhm… Someone from Section 17 wanted to know what he’ll be wearing for the party so they can uhm… pair up? Usually, some folks prefer to wear matching outfits, especially the cliques and the couples – “
Lucien’s eyebrows furrowed. “Pye – Mr. Menendez is going out with someone from Section 17?”
Desiree let out a small gasp and shook her head vehemently. “Oh no, no, no. You see, Mr. Menendez is quite popular among several departments. Actually, Chief Salverson himself is just as popular.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks turning red. “But a friend wanted to meet and hang out with Mr. Menendez at the party…”
Lucien bit his lower lip.
Damn, if I find out he’s dating someone, I’ll send his ass back to Hell right this instant!
“Well, you have to ask him yourself, Ms. Camper,” he replied as he walked towards his desk.
And then, a thought suddenly came to him.
“Ms. Camper? You mentioned something about cliques. Does that mean the C-Suite folks also dress up in matching costumes?”
“C-Suite... You mean the executives?” Desiree Camper was lost in thought for a moment. “I’ve only ever been to one of these parties before, so I’m not sure myself. But it’s possible. A lot of colleagues I know have been planning out their costumes for over a month now. And, some of the folks here in our section have agreed to dress up in bird and bunny costumes.”
Lucien ignored her final remark about their section’s costume theme. “Hmm... So, it’s possible,” he replied as he sank into his chair and let out a deep breath.
Desiree gave him a puzzled look, then smiled.
“If you don’t mind me saying this, Chief, this party is the company’s way of letting everyone unwind and enjoy themselves – even for just one day. There are no labels like ‘subordinate’ and ‘boss’. Who knows, we might just get to share a drink or two with some of the execs, without even knowing it. And maybe even go home together?” She said suggestively as she let out a soft chuckle.
Lucien gave her a piercing look. Were his intentions so glaringly obvious, or does this woman simply have a keen eye for reading people? She is the very type of person that keeps his guard up.
“Actually, I do mind, Ms. Camper,” he grumbled as he pored over the papers on his desk.
Desiree flinched and put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend -”
Lucien waved his hand, dismissing her anxiety. “It’s alright, you can go back to work now. I’ll send these over to you this afternoon.”
Feeling sheepish, Desiree hurriedly stepped out of his office without another word.
When he was finally alone, he turned his chair towards the window and leaned back.
“You can’t start whining now,” he said to himself in frustration. “Nobody said it’s going to be easy. Remember your commitment, Lucien Salverson. ‘Anything that’s worth struggling for will be hard work.’'”
He heaved a deep sigh and covered his face with his hands. “But fuck it, don’t I deserve to get at least a single hint!?”
Saturday. The day of the quinquiennial corporate event.
Lucien’s two-week endeavor to fish for as much information as he could, has gone down the drain. However, it was not entirely an unlucky streak. The things he had customized and ordered online, have arrived just in time for the party.
If he couldn’t hunt his prey, then he might as well let them fall into his trap.
The night before the event, he opened the boxes that arrived by mail. They had been lying untouched since Wednesday, the day Pyewacket struck a silent war with him. While he did not attempt to reconcile (because he has no idea what had triggered Pyewacket to begin with), his familiar was the first to break the awkward 2-day silence between them. It could be that he either risks provoking Mammon’s ire if he were to continue ignoring Lucien, or that he was flattered by the party suit his master had bought for him.
“Just so you know, this isn’t a peace offering,” Lucien clarified as he carefully laid a black suit and what appeared to be a metallic half-mask the shape of a wolf’s head.
Pyewacket smiled as he held the mask. “Or I could just go there in my canine form. No doubt I’d win the Best Costume Award.”
Lucien chortled. “Or you could just thank your master for his efforts and wear his present like a good boy.”
“So, it’s a ‘present’.”
Lucien’s lips curled. “Fine, if you don’t want to wear it then I’ll just - “
Pyewacket gently pulled the suit from Lucien’s grasp. “Thank you, Master,” he said warmly as he swung the suit cover over one shoulder and put on the half-mask. “I’ll make sure not to disappoint you tomorrow.”
Lucien tilted his head and scratched the back of his ear as he watched Pyewacket disappear into the study room. “It feels weird, seeing this cute side to you,” he said to himself, amused and bewildered at the same time.
And tonight, as he stood side-by-side with his familiar, there is absolutely no doubt they are a standout duo that will turn heads.
Pyewacket’s midnight black suit was exquisitely cut – a perfect match for his mysterious personality. Meanwhile, Lucien decided to put on a leopard print suit, which is obviously something he would never wear on a regular day. But given the party’s theme, an outfit that would otherwise be too kitsch, could now easily put him on the spotlight.
The wolf and leopard half-masks added an air of mystery and distinction to them but seeing as most other men in the room decided to – unsurprisingly – wear silly onesies and actual animal costumes, they are easily recognizable, especially among their associates.
From the receiving area alone, they have attracted quite a bit of attention from the ladies.
“Mr. Salverson!” greeted a blonde-haired lady wearing pastel pink feathered dress and a feather headpiece.
It was Rose de Silva, a former workmate from Section 15. Champagne glass in hand, she was bubbling over with excitement as she walked up to him. “Welcome to your first quinquennial. So happy you could make it.”
“Looking elegant tonight, Ms. Rose,” chimed Lucien as he took off his half-mask and kissed Rose on the cheek. “The party’s barely even started yet you look like you’ve already had one too many.” He pointed to her nearly empty glass.
“Oh, psh!” Rose waved her hand dismissively. “The party’s begun the moment the first guest arrived. That means you’re already an hour late, Sir.” And finally, she noticed Pyewacket standing stiffly behind Lucien. “And who is this lovely creature here?”
Pyewacket reached out a hand to Rose. “Philip Menendez, Mr. Salverson’s secretary. A pleasure to meet you.”
Rose took his hand in an eager handshake. “My, my. So, you have your own secretary now. And such a fine-looking man, too. The name’s Rose de Silva, Section 15. But I’m your little flamingo for the night. Care for some champagne, Philip?”
Pyewacket shook his head and smiled. “I’d like to keep a clear head for at least a couple of hours.”
Rose took a sip from her champagne glass. “Suit yourself. Some lady friends and I will be over at the east side of the hall, next to the wine fountain. You can come join us if you want.”
“We’ll have to go and talk to a few people first before we settle in,” Lucien cut in. “But we’ll see you later, Miss - “
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in! Mr. Salverson – Oh, my bad, it’s Chief Salverson now, isn’t it?” Said a husky voice behind them.
Lucien almost did not want to look back after recognizing who the voice belonged to.
“Higgins,” he said in a drab voice as he turned around and smiled curtly.
George Higgins has been Carmichael Tech’s Chief HR Officer since Lucien joined the company. He is slender despite his years, toned and always held his head high. He has deep brown eyes and tanned skin like any other Miami local. But once he opens his mouth, it is with a New York accent.
Whatever game this man is playing, he is certainly not accustomed to losing. But there’s bad blood between him and Lucien because for one, he was always on the losing end.
“I could have sworn you’ve walked in to the wrong party with that ensemble,” Higgins said in a tone that's something between compliment and sarcasm. He looked at Lucien from head to foot, before shaking his hand. “A little too overdressed I think, but look at you, rocking it and dapper as always!”
“Speak for yourself,” Lucien replied as he scanned Higgins’ outfit: White tuxedo and a full-face rabbit mask that he had taken off.
Higgins grabbed three shotglasses from a passing waitress and sloppily passed the two to Lucien and Pyewacket, which they hesitantly accepted.
“Cheers, mates!” Higgins said in a whiskey-dulled voice as he took a long swig and let out a deep hiss.
“Seems like everyone else is already tipsy,” Lucien mused as he looked around.
“Like, I said, gentlemen,” Rose de Silva interjected, looking slightly exasperated after having been rudely interrupted by Higgins, “we’ll just be at the east side. Be expecting you!” She gave Higgins a stabbing look before making her way back to her table.
Higgins either did not notice Rose’s hostility or chose to ignore her altogether. He put an arm around Lucien’s shoulders, ushering him inside the vast banquet hall of the Grand Salon Country Club.
With its marble floors and the royal chandeliers sparkling above them, the foyer looked too elegant for an animal-themed party. The air inside was humid and a little too stifling for Lucien, given that it’s nearly jam-packed with over 300 guests. There were free endless drinks and food everywhere, making him feel as though he is right in the middle of an extravagant party from The Great Gatsby – except that it’s much darker and people are looking less chic.
He took a quick glance at his watch. It was barely even 9 PM yet half of the crowd looked drunk or tipsy. A few people are in clusters, some sitting around the overcrowded bar, while others are standing around high-top cocktail tables spread across the hall and outside the terrace, drinking and talking.
“I don’t remember annual parties ever being like this.” Lucien put the shot of whiskey to his mouth and drank it down as fast as he could.
Higgins laughed as he patted him on the back. “Didn’t you get the memo? You’re in for a wild party, friend.”
They were lucky enough to find an empty table on the far-left side of the hall, just a few feet away from the bar and has a panoramic view of the dance floor up ahead.
Higgins turned to Pyewacket, who placed his still untouched shot on the table. “Oh hey, Mister...?”
“Philip Menendez, Sir.”
“Right. Hey, buddy, would you mind grabbing two more shots for me and your boss?”
“No thanks, I’m good,” Lucien snapped as he gave Pyewacket a knowing look, telling him not to move an inch. “We’ll just be here while you go get your shot, Higgins.”
“Actually, I don’t mind at all,” Pyewacket countered, which took Lucien by surprise. He beamed at his master, who by now was giving him a piercing look.
“Apparently, you don’t,” Lucien glowered at him.
Since when did he learn to disobey me? This rascal!
“Thanks, buddy!” said Higgins as he gave Pyewacket a pat on the back before turning back to a brooding Lucien. “Such a nice fellow you have there. I wish my secretary could be just as assertive. Oh wait, I’ve no secretary! Ha!”
Lucien slumped his shoulders and rolled his eyes as Higgins laughed at his own joke.
“So, Chief, how’s it going for you?” Higgins stammered as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
“Fine,” Lucien replied dryly as he put his half-mask back on, eyes wandering as he studied the people and the surrounding hall.
Desiree Camper was right, the guests that had come in groups and cliques have similar themed costumes, making it easier for him to spot familiar figures. But in this vast hall filled with people in masks, looking for a person you haven’t met before would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.
“... But of course, my wife – and you’ve met her before – she would still nag at me about going home late on weekends, thinking I’m just -”
“Hey, Higgins,” Lucien cut him off from his long narrative. “You have access to the company roster, right?”
Higgins guffawed. “’'Kind of stupid question is that? ‘Course, I do! What do you take me for?”
“So, you must’ve seen the C-Suite profiles, too. Yes?”
“Uh... yes,” Higgins replied, face stiffening. “But that’s confidential info, Chief.” He zipped his own lips with his fingers.
“Can you recognize any of them here right now?” Lucien pushed on, ignoring his remarks.
Higgins briefly scanned his eyes around the hall, then back to Lucien. “Oh, I’m sure as heck they’re here. They’re all over the place.”
Lucien figured now isn’t the time to be prudent.
“Can you see Audra Breslin or any of her associates?”
Higgins scrunched his eyebrows in disbelief. “Woah, slow down, cowboy. Aren’t we in such a hurry to get promoted? It’s barely been a month since you - “
Lucien clenched his fist. “It’s not what you think. There’s something important I need to discuss with her. But getting an appointment isn’t so easy now, is it? This is my only chance.”
“To suck up to your boss? It sure is!” Higgins blurted. “I know you’re an ambitious guy, Salverson. But not to this extent. What’s making you so desperate? Aren’t you happy with where you are right now? Hundreds of people would kill to be in your shoes.”
“I told you, that’s not what I -”
“I’m back,” Pyewacket shouted from behind them. He dropped two half-full shotglasses and a plate of lemon onto the table. “Sorry, there was a long queue at the bar.”
Higgins grabbed one of the glasses and straightened up, looking more sober than he was just minutes ago. “Don’t push your luck, Salverson. If they come to you, then they sure as hell will come to you. You’re Mr. Popular, anyway. Right?” He took a big swig, draining his glass before walking away.
Pyewacket’s mouth opened slightly as he watched George Higgins stumble his way towards a big group of young colleagues playing beer pong at the opposite end of the hall.
“Did I miss something?” he asked as he turned to his master with a confused look.
“Everyone’s so fucking useless,” Lucien spat as he snatched the second shot and gulped it down in one go. “Except you, okay? Except you.”
Pyewacket moved around the table and stood next to Lucien. “Master, I know you’re a lightweight. It’s better to go easy on the alcohol or we’ll end up not doing what we’re supposed to do here tonight.”
“I know, I know,” Lucien replied, the burning sensation of alcohol pouring down his throat. “Hey, Pye? Don’t you have any magical radar we can use to spot our target?”
Pyewacket took off his half-mask. “There’s a limit to my powers, Master. But yours is virtually limitless, you just need to discover them. Perhaps now is the time to learn a new one.”
Lucien strained his eyes, fixed them on the crowd in front of them.
“What exactly... should I be looking for?” he wondered, eyes still focused ahead.
Pyewacket leaned closer to Lucien’s ear and whispered. “We’re looking for an ancient soul. The color of their aura must be something you haven’t seen before. Surely, it’ll be easier to spot them in this crowd. Or they could have no aura at all.”
Lucien could feel his head grow warm the more he tried to concentrate.
“It’s time to put your power to the next level, Master. You need to be able to see right through a person’s soul.”
“I... I can do that?”
Pyewacket nodded.
“I’d like to learn that as soon as possible. Teach me how to –”
Just as he turned his head to Pyewacket, he felt something inside snap.
“Master, your nose is bleeding,” Pyewacket gasped as he quickly pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed Lucien’s nose with it.
“Ah, shit. I think I’ve overdone it,” Lucien cursed as he pressed the handkerchief closer to his nose to stop the bleeding.
“Are you alright?”
“A little dizzy but yes, I’m fine.”
“Let me go get you some water -”
“Chief! Mr. Menendez! We finally found you guys!” shrieked a familiar voice from behind them.
A flurry of fluff and feathers surrounded Lucien and Pyewacket, followed by loud giggling and drunken laughter. It was Desiree Camper and her flock of lady friends wearing bird and bunny costumes.
“H - Hi, how’s it going?” Lucien stammered as he turned away from them.
“Oh my god, Chief, your nose is bleeding!” Desiree cried out as she stooped down to check his nose.
“Yes, but I’m fine now. It’s ‘cause of the heat.”
One of the ladies grabbed Lucien by the arm and motioned him towards the nearest empty seat. “Here, you need to sit down and lean forward. Pinch the bridge of your nose and try breathing through your mouth.”
Lucien looked up at her and chortled. “Are you a nurse or something?”
The lady put her hands on her waist, smirking. “I happen to be the company nurse, yes, but this is basic information, Mr. Salverson.”
“He looks like he needs a glass of water. Here,” said another lady as she offered her glass to Lucien.
“Thank you, ladies. But I’m feeling much better now. Really. It’s nothing serious.”
Pyewacket slowly made his way through the group of ladies hovering over Lucien and held up his hands.
“Everyone, please. Let’s give Mr. Salverson some air.”
The ladies quickly took a step back, still looking at Lucien with an expression of pity and anxiety.
“We uhm, we thought we could invite you two to come dance with us. The DJ will be on-stage any minute now,” Desiree announced. “But you look like you’re better off staying at the gazebo, Chief. You’ll feel much better with fresh air.” She pointed to the small turret-shaped pavilion outside the hall’s west end.
Pyewacket held Lucien by the arm and slowly propped him up. “Great idea. I’ll accompany him there. If you’ll excuse us, ladies...”
The ladies nodded and waved at them like forlorn parents waving off a honeymoon couple. As always, Pyewacket seemed oblivious about all this, but Lucien felt a pang of guilt that made him stop in his tracks.
He slipped his arm from Pyewacket’s grasp. “You know what, I’m all good. You should go join them, Pye. Have some fun. Don’t worry about me.”
“Master, please don’t be stubborn. Just let me accompany you and - “
Lucien turned him around and pushed him forward. “Jeez, stop it. I’m not a baby. Go, have fun.”
“But -”
“I have a perfectly clear view of the dance floor from the gazebo. See? You guys just stay on the west side, so we can keep an eye on each other. Okay?”
The ladies clapped their hands excitedly as they swarmed Pyewacket and dragged him to the dance floor.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Pyewacket protested, never tearing his eyes off his master.
“Don’t be such a mom. Just go,” Lucien blurted as he waved him off and leisurely made his way towards the gazebo.
Sometimes, it feels nice to be alone. Lucien sometimes feels this strange longing whenever he is in a big gathering.
As soon as the DJ stepped up the stage and started playing music, the guests flitted towards the dance floor, filling it quickly in seconds. When the dancing and raving started, he finally got the gazebo all to himself. He sat down on the edge and took off his mask once more. Sweat dripped from his brows as he brushed his hair back from his eyes. He could see Pyewacket sticking his head up to look at him, and he would look back at him with a frown.
Thankfully, the blood had finally stopped flowing out of his nose. He dropped the stained handkerchief on the seat next to him and took out his glasses from his breast pocket.
“Not gonna’ join in?” a deep male voice suddenly broke the silence, which nearly made Lucien jump to his feet.
He quickly put on his glasses and looked to his right. There by the dimly lit pebble walkway, was a man looking statue-like in a neat pressed khaki suit, a half-full glass of wine in one hand. His eyes were hidden behind a nicely crafted lion mask, complete with faux mane hanging gracefully down his back.
Lucien kept his guard up as the man slowly approached him.
“Good evening,” the man greeted in a low and soft voice. “Seems kind of weird to see someone moping around here while everyone else is having fun.”
“Same goes to you,” Lucien responded jokingly.
Now only a few feet away from him, he could get a much clearer view of the man’s face – or at least half of it. He was clean-shaven and utterly serious, with a mole on the left side of his dimpled chin. But what was most striking was the silver piercing in his lower lip, which glistened in the dim light.
“’Mind if I join you?” the man asked politely as he pointed to the empty seat next to Lucien.
Lucien quickly grabbed the stained handkerchief and shoved it in his pocket. “Certainly not. Please be my guest.”
A suspended silence saturated the air around them.
“So uhm… Do I know you?” Lucien asked with an awkward smile.
“You’re about to.”
“Then… who are you?”
The man chuckled as he sat down next to him. “Can’t you tell? I’m Mr. Lion.”
Lucien crinkled his nose. “Again, with the lame no-label rule.”
“Why, don’t you like a bit of mystery?”
“Well, I do. But meh, whoever came up with that rule must be hiding something.”
“Oh, yeah?” The man snorted. “You’re reading too much into it, Mister…” he set his eyes on Lucien’s mask, which lay on his lap, “… Leopard.” He reached his hand out to shake Lucien’s.
Meanwhile, Lucien failed to hide the look of awe on his face as he set his eyes on the rune-like ring tattoos that ran along the man’s fingers.
There’s something about this man that didn’t appear to truly belong.
“You must be from the IT department. They’re far more lax over there when it comes to piercings and tattoos.” He couldn’t help but comment on it.
“Oh, these? I’ve had them since before I joined the company. They let me keep them. And anyway, it’s much harder and more expensive to remove tattoos. Right?” The man replied as he let go of Lucien’s hand and waved his own in front of his face. “I have them on both hands. See?”
Lucien let out a low gasp. “I’m surprised that someone like you works for a company that’s obsessed about proper decorum.”
“You’re funny. Saying it as if you don’t work for Carmichael Tech yourself.”
“My bad,” Lucien replied, chuckling. “I tend to speak my mind often – and loudly. It gets me into trouble sometimes.”
He doesn’t quite know why he suddenly felt being talkative – and to a stranger no less. This guy either has an unusual charm to him that makes him feel at ease or it could just be the alcohol that’s loosened his tongue.
As his eyes darted back towards Pyewacket, he almost laughed to see him still fixing his gaze on him – except that he looked more wary than ever. His eyes appeared to be glowing from under his mask, like a warning signal. He cast his eyes back on the man beside him, a good enough message that conveys he’s not under any threat and that his familiar should not be so uptight.
“What I meant to say is that,” the man continued, “it’s just for fun. Everyone just has to enjoy this moment before the company lets them work their asses off again for the rest of the year.”
“That’s a lame compensation, you know. I’d prefer a nice, juicy bonus over some grand party that barely even lets me meet my bosses.”
The man’s eyes lit up. “I see… So, you want to meet the bigwigs, eh?”
Lucien’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile. “Nothing wrong with it, right?”
“No, not at all.”
A waiter holding a tray with glasses of wine and whiskey passed by. The man motioned the waiter to approach, then took four shots of whiskey and two glasses of wine from the tray. He handed one to Lucien, whose jaw dropped at the number of glasses he took.
“Oh no, thanks. I still want to live tomorrow,” he remarked as he politely refused the man’s offer.
“Nobody said you need to drink them all at once. And besides, the night’s still young,” the man contended, still holding out the glass to Lucien.
“Well… one more glass won’t hurt, right?”
Trying to shrug off Pyewacket’s warning, he took the glass, then drank the whiskey down in one gulp. He slammed the glass down on the space between them, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fuck, I don’t get why some folks like this shit-awful taste.”
The man finished his wine from earlier, before taking another glass. He twirled it by the stem, staring intently at the deep red liquid swirling about in a shallow funnel. “’Drink because you’re happy, but never because you’re miserable’ – or so they say.” He raised his glass to Lucien before taking a mouthful of wine.
“You have a way with words, Mr. Lion,” Lucien said with a lopsided grin. “Let’s just hope this isn’t some sort of temporary fun with permanent consequences.”
Between shots of whiskey and glasses of wine, Lucien and his strange company shared a rich dialogue all through the night. Their conversations were interesting, enlightening, funny, sometimes even intriguing. And so, their interests were captured with the passing of time. Before they realized it, two hours had already passed.
After three shots of whiskey, Lucien Salverson was beyond tipsy. In fact, he felt a little drunk. Each time he closed his eyes, he felt dizzy. The man began to whisper in his ear and each time he spoke, he would let out a giggle. At this point, he barely had any clue what he was whispering to him. He just smiled and nodded. It’s crazy to think that this man could possibly be making a pass at him, but he didn’t mind at all. For the first time in a long time, he was feeling so good and wanted to enjoy every minute of it.
He looked at his watch and noticed the time: 12:17 AM. The dancing and raving went on, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.
Pyewacket remained in his peripherals the entire time although by now, his jacket was already slung over one shoulder, his tie loose, the top buttons of his shirt unfastened. Lucien had never seen this happy and carefree side of him before – and he’s one hell of a dancer, too. It’s refreshing.
Alcohol certainly does wonders, and it’s making him sentimental.
But forget Pyewacket. He’s enjoying himself, too! Somehow, the thought of hunting his prey for the night completely slipped out of his mind.
He leaned close to the stranger next to him, who appeared to be just as inebriated as he was.
“Hey, it’s already past midnight, Mr. Lion,” Lucien slurred. “I think I deserve to… at least see your face from behind that stupid mask.”
As he lifted a hand to reach for his mask, the man suddenly grabbed his wrist and pressed it gently.
Lucien pouted. “That’s unfair. You’ve already seen my face. I can even tell you my name now, if you want.”
The man sighed, then looked cautiously around him before turning back to Lucien. He leaned closer and whispered, “I will, but not here.”
He stood up, grabbed Lucien by the arm, and whisked him toward the Grand Salon’s fire exit, leading to the back alley.
Lucien had no time to resist nor panic, as he looked back at Pyewacket, who was too engrossed in the fun to have even noticed his master leaving his sight. Strangely enough, Lucien was not afraid. On the other hand, what he felt was a sense of thrill and excitement.
He tugged against the man’s grasp, slid his hand to the other’s wrist, then twined his fingers with his. Still wearing his mask, the man whipped his head around to face Lucien, the corners of his mouth turning up as they held hands.
Lucien and the stranger went down the steps toward an empty and dimly lit alley that ran behind the Grand Salon on the main street. It was quiet, save for the sound of hissing gas as steam poured out of nearby air vents.
Lucien leaned his back against the wall, trying to catch his breath.
“Ahh… I need to get back in shape,” he said in a raspy tone.
The man stood in front of him, one hand pressed against the wall behind his head.
Lucien nibbled on his bottom lip and asked, “So… can I take it off now?”
Without waiting for the man’s reply, he reached out and traced the edge of his mask before lifting it slowly. A cascade of long, lustrous golden-brown hair flowed out from under the lion mask, revealing a face that is far beyond Lucien’s imagination.
He appeared to be in his early thirties. His eyes were a mesmerizing mahogany brown, framed by graceful light brown brows. He has a strong face, with prominent cheekbones and well-defined nose – features that made him seem more authoritative than his aura already suggested.
His usually playful smile etched its way back into his face as he took off Lucien’s glasses and stared deep into his eyes.
“Such a shame to be hiding those beautiful eyes underneath these thick glasses.”
“It’s not just for show... I have very shitty eyesight and I actually need them,” Lucien remarked, trying not to focus too much on the feeling of blood roaring to his face as the man drew closer, lips brushing his ear.
With a deep voice, he spoke, “It’s Murphy.”
Lucien looked at him languorously, still trying to focus. “Huh?”
“My name, it’s Murph – “
Lucien leaned forward and kissed him before he even had the chance to initiate it himself. When he did so, the man’s body tensed. He was too startled to respond at first. He pressed himself even closer, wrapping an arm around his neck as their kiss became more passionate.
“I didn’t take you for the aggressive type,” the man named Murphy said with a soft chuckle. Mouths still interlocked, he slowly moved his hands down and wrapped his arms around Lucien’s waist, pressing his body against his, up against the wall.
Lucien could barely remember the last time he had been intimate with someone. He only dated twice before, and both were women. He could hardly even recall the ecstasy and sensual pleasure that came with sex. And now, with a man… It felt like his need for a deeper connection was stronger than ever before.
Their hands wandered and caressed each other’s bodies, the chemistry between them suddenly a burning flame of lust and desire.
Lucien opened his mouth as Murphy slipped his tongue inside, which he welcomed with eagerness. The tension between them was beginning to subside.
“Murphy,” Lucien whispered in-between torrid kisses, “you might regret this, you know…”
“Never,” Murphy responded almost instantly as he continued to kiss him fervently, leaving a trail along his jaw, his collarbone, and the strong curve of his neck. He paused for a moment, looking up at Lucien with needy eyes. “So, I’ll have to shoot that question back at you.”
“Don’t… give me a reason to…”
Lucien arched against him, his breath quickening as Murphy’s fingers tugged at his shirt. First, he pulled back his suit jacket before unfastening the buttons of his shirt, one by one until it lay open. He gasped as he felt his lips brush across his chest, making their way down his mid-section before finally lingering on his belly, right on his happy trail where fine wisps of hair ran from his belly button down to his pubic region.
Now kneeling, Murphy looked up at Lucien to see how he was reacting to his touch.
“Murphy…” Lucien moaned his name as he pushed his hips up. He was visibly excited, failing miserably to forget his inhibitions. He wanted him to venture further down and make him feel what he was doing to him.
“I know just what you need.” Murphy beamed, but he took his time to oblige him. He dragged a fingertip along the edge of Lucien’s pants, dipping it underneath the waistband to tease his desire.
Lucien watched him intently, wondering where his teasing would lead him. And when his breathing grew ragged, Murphy began to slowly unbuckle his belt and slide down his zipper. He undressed him the way a stripper would when in front of a crowd: Slowly, seductively, and with great anticipation.
Lucien was growing impatient by the second, but it pleased him all the same. He had never experimented oral sex with another man before, so he wasn’t sure just how far he’d go.
Murphy’s eyes glowed like a cat’s, finally finishing his task the moment he slid Lucien’s pants down his legs. Without warning, he dropped a hand down below his waistband, going further down until his hand covered his entire length.
Lucien covered his mouth, stifling his moans as Murphy slowly moved his hand up and down along his shaft. He rocked his hips to grind himself against the man’s skillful hands. He then moved his hands into his hair, clenching it tightly.
Murphy enjoyed teasing Lucien. He curled his fingers completely around him and gripped tightly. “Go ahead, let your voice out. Nobody else is going to hear you.”
Lucien closed his eyes to concentrate on the sensation. He felt him sliding his underwear down over his hips and heard him sigh softly.
“Look at you. You’re so eager.”
“It’s been a while.”
“How long has it been?”
Before Lucien could even respond, Murphy grinned up at him. He continued to gaze directly into Lucien’s eyes as he playfully stuck the tip of his tongue out and dragged it up his entire length. The cold sensation of his lip piercing grazing his skin combined with the warmth of his mouth, sent shivers down his spine.
“Fuck…” Lucien mewled.
Murphy relished every bit of response coming from Lucien. He never gave him the chance to look away from his lust-filled eyes, not even when he sucked him deep into his mouth. Slowly, he bobbed his head up and down, his tongue swirling around, flicking against Lucien’s sensitive flesh.
Lucien desperately wanted to let off some steam, and it did not help that this guy is incredibly attractive; not to mention that he has a very skilled mouth that’s extremely good at giving mind-blowing head. None of his exes were half as good. This guy deserves the Best Blow Job Award.
This time, he rocked his hips against Murphy’s needy mouth, hands once again playing in his hair but gently caressing him as he worked his shaft. He could feel his knees buckle under his weight.
Murphy got himself excited enough to moan against Lucien’s length, which completely shattered any shred of resistance he had left.
“Stop,” Lucien pleaded hoarsely. “Please.”
But Murphy sucked even harder. He wanted him to beg more. He didn’t want it to end so soon, so he tried his best to control him.
“Fuck. Murphy, please...”
At first, his strokes were slow and deliberate, then he picked up the pace until he could see he was getting to him.
“I’m sorry, I’m so close.”
Although Murphy didn’t want to pull away just yet, that was the final warning he figured he’d get.
Lucien drew down and bent forward, feeling his ejaculation hit Murphy’s tongue as he let out a loud moan and came into his mouth. He felt like his head was about to explode from all the different sensations going off like fireworks. His body shuddered as pleasure swamped him; so intense and shattering than anything he had ever felt before.
Murphy sucked him down with eager anticipation, touching him everywhere he could reach until he finally pulled away, trying to catch his breath.
“I need… a moment,” Lucien muttered mindlessly as he arched against Murphy, his erection still hard, basted in his own fluid and Murphy’s saliva.
When the pleasure gradually broke and when he was finally about to come back to himself, Murphy refused to allow it just yet. Instead, he rose to his feet, slid his hands along the dip of Lucien’s back, and cupped his bare buttocks.
Lucien let out a gasp. He was still drunk with pleasure and more than a little dazed, but his senses were heightened, and his instincts kicked in. He wrapped a leg around Murphy’s lean waist, his arms around his broad shoulders. He pressed back against the wall for better leverage. He was there between his thighs – blunt, big and hard. He had just come, but as Murphy probed his fingers gently at his opening, he couldn’t help but feel anxious.
This man had been so unbelievably patient, so careful to ensure his satisfaction. So, he expected him to be impatient now. Rough and ravenous.
Leaning forward until he could feel the heat of his breath right next to his ear, Murphy whispered, “Make me feel good, too,” before pressing light kisses to his cheek.
“The thing is –” Lucien bit his lip for a moment, feeling embarrassed at what he was about to confess, “–I’ve never done it before.”
Murphy stopped what he was doing and pulled his head back to look at him quizzically.
Lucien dropped his gaze. “With a man… I’ve never done it before.”
Just as he said this, the baffled look on Murphy’s face was quickly replaced with one of relief. He wrapped his arms around Lucien and heaved a sigh.
“You scared me for a moment. I thought I did something wrong and you wanted me to stop,” Murphy said as he planted tiny kisses along Lucien’s throat and jaw. “Then, perhaps we can compromise.”
He kissed him on the lips, not gently like before, but with a passion that seemed to possess him like a carnal force. Lucien tried to catch his breath as he probed his mouth. He could faintly taste his own essence mixed in with the bitterness of wine.
As Murphy continued to invade Lucien’s mouth, he whispered, “Maybe this time, Storm would finally let me keep you.”
Those mysterious words somehow snapped Lucien back to his senses, like a spell that broke a curse. He bit Murphy’s lip, making him flinch and move away.
“What did you just say?” jabbed Lucien, his nose flaring.
Murphy winced in pain as he pressed a finger to his lip, bright red drop of blood oozing to the surface where Lucien had bitten him.
Lucien hurriedly pulled up his underwear and pants. “Okay. Time’s up. Fun’s over.”
“W – Wait. What’s going on? What did I do?” Murphy sounded confused and anxious.
Lucien glared at him as he struggled to fasten the buttons of his shirt. “You’re a fucking cheater, aren’t you?”
Murphy froze for a moment, then finally realized his mistake. “You mean – Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong. I – I got caught up in the moment, I’m sorry. But that’s really not what I meant. Storm, she – “
“Listen, buddy, I understand. Okay? You don’t have to explain,” Lucien snapped as he fumbled around, groping for his glasses on the ground. “You got drunk, got curious how it’d be to fuck a dude – and heck, almost succeeded with it, too! But you have a girlfriend, for fuck’s sake! Time to snap back to reality, okay? We’re done here.”
Murphy shook his head vehemently. “No, no, no. She – She’s not… It’s… It’s complicated. If you could just allow me to explain –”
“Fucking right, it’s complicated!” Lucien glowered as he put his glasses back on and rose to his feet. He felt lightheaded and nauseous now. The sudden high of an orgasm and the lows of alcohol intoxication are finally taking their toll on him.
Just then, he could hear Pyewacket’s voice in his head, desperately calling out to him.
‘Master! Master, if you can hear me, please answer me!’
Pyewacket. He completely forgot about him and now he must be turning the whole place upside-down, searching for him. It’s time to get this over and done with.
As he made his way towards the fire exit door, Murphy grabbed him by the arm, looking more dejected than ever.
“I wasn’t playing with you, okay? I… I really waited for this moment. It’s been so long. Please, just let me explain, Lucien. I can’t afford to – “
Shock overtook Lucien’s face when he heard him utter his name – something he had not told him. “So, you knew me all along! You scumbag!” He freed himself from Murphy’s grasp and scrambled to grab the door handle.
“I beg you, hear me out!”
Before Murphy could even get a step closer to him, Lucien’s fist landed a blow against his right cheek hard enough to make him drop to his back, hitting the ground hard.
“Enough! Don’t you dare come near me again or I’ll report you to the Commission!” Lucien warned him one last time before he swung the door open and rushed back inside the Grand Salon.
It was the first time Lucien had punched someone. He rubbed his knuckle, trying to ease the pulsating pain. He tried to fix his tie and jacket, but they were too wrinkled and disheveled, so he took them off instead. He brushed his hair back and slapped himself across the face, hoping it would keep him awake and alert for at least a few more minutes.
He allowed a complete stranger to take advantage of him. He had been so reckless. So utterly stupid.
“Stop screaming in my head, Pye. I’m here and I’m on my way back,” he mumbled as he staggered his way back towards the banquet hall. He must be a complete mess now, and he could not recall where he had left his mask.
“Shit disappears just when you need it”, he spat as he finally reached the entrance hall from the west end, nearly losing his balance as he bumped into a waiter.
‘Master, where are you? I’m at the fountain, near the bar.’
Lucien finally found an empty chair next to a buffet table.
“I can’t hold on much longer, Pye. Let’s go home. I’m near the dance floor, by the buffet table – “
“Mr. Salverson!”
Pyewacket rushed towards him with a frantic look on his face. Lugging behind him was George Higgins, looking like a walking beet, red in the face and barely able to walk straight.
“Wow, I never thought I’d see the day when Mr. Perfect would show up looking like a train wreck!” Higgins jeered, then placed a hand on Pyewacket’s shoulder. “You fool, you made this guy worried sick.”
Pyewacket knelt beside Lucien. He hurriedly removed his suit coat and draped it over his master’s shoulders.
“Master, what happened? Where were you? I’ve been looking all over.” His familiar implored.
Lucien crouched by the chair, covering his face with his hands. “I’ll… I’ll explain it to you when we get home. Okay? Please, just… Let’s go.”
“Hey, Chief, that guy you were with earlier, where’s he now?” Higgins butted in as he placed his hands on his hips and looked around.
He had a mocking expression on his face that irritated Lucien, who shot back a dirty look as he tried to stand up. “No idea. We just made small talk and he had to leave with some friends afterwards.” Even talking was a real struggle.
“He did?” Higgins’ lips creased up, trying to suppress a laugh. “Okay, I’ll have you know one thing before you guys head back home. I guess you were either too drunk or too ignorant to have noticed it, anyway.”
“Let’s just talk about it some other time, Higgins, m’kay?” Lucien pushed him out of the way as he tried to walk. Pyewacket wrapped an arm around his waist for support and assisted him to his feet.
“I’m sure you didn’t get their memo, but most of the execs who came in tonight were wearing feline costumes,” Higgins exclaimed.
Lucien stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at Higgins.
Suddenly, a small group of people entered the hall from the west entrance. Some of the guests who were still sober enough to have noticed their arrival, looked up to see what the commotion was. There were three people in plain black suits that appeared to be bodyguards, closely following three other people who were rushing to get out of the banquet hall, away from the crowd.
Lucien could recognize two of those people from where he stood. One was the person he so desperately wanted to meet that night: Audra Breslin, looking rather apprehensive and furious in a black panther leather costume. The other was Murphy, his face partly covered with his khaki suit jacket. Audra had him by the arm, practically dragging him across the hallway as he struggled to walk on his own.
“See, you’re always one lucky bastard,” Higgins muttered as he stood next to Lucien, who was too dumbfounded to react. “You actually got what you were asking for, huh. You got to meet one of them.”
The color drained out of Lucien’s face. His stomach began to heave in a sickly way, eyes swiveling towards the back of his head in a distressed sense of migraine. Suddenly, the world had started spinning like a carousel, slow at first and then gaining momentum. And like a balloon that inflated in his gut, everything he drunk and ate for the past several hours, raced to be expelled.
Vomit. There’s vomit all over Pyewacket’s shirt, on his shoes, and on the floor.
He didn’t know what was up and what was down. The world spun around him one more time.
Higgins looked over him, his face looking red and contorted like the devil in his nightmares. “I sure hope you lived in the moment and took advantage of the opportunity, Chief. Otherwise, I’d give you the Idiot of the Year Award.”
Lucien’s final memory before blacking out was George Higgins’ insanely infuriating laugh. It did not make for a stellar ending to wrap up the night he had been looking forward to for so long.
He could be terribly wrong, but the opportunity of a lifetime may have just slipped from his hands.
