Intoxicated Story
Matthew Ryan Fischer
She asked me what I was doing there. For some reason
it caught me off guard and I paused and smiled instead of answering. She was a
good looking girl – Sheryl Parker Silva, daughter of Raymond “Ace” Silva. She
had been born beautiful and famous. She was successful before she learned her
first word or took her first step. She was born one of the lucky ones. She was
part of a family that had had money for over a century, with ties and links and
interconnected marriages to the movers and the shakers, in front and behind the
scenes. Previous generations had been happier behind the scenes, where they
could whisper and push and make their money that way. They had been king
makers. They had turned elections. Their playing ground was with the
industrialites, the money makers, and politicians. Her father was a master of
the stock market and had interests in technology and manufacturing all over the
world. But this young generation of brothers and sisters and cousins, they
featured an ever increased number of socialites. Money for money’s sake with a
healthy round of hedonism for everyone. They were so comfortable in front of
the camera now. But that’s natural. That’s the story of the here and now and
the spoiled. Always get suckered in and get their ‘fifteen minutes.’ Fame is
intoxicating in its own right, and who can blame people for pursuing that.
One thing for sure, little Sheryl was going to get
anything she ever wanted in this world. And yet, I couldn’t hold it against
her. Looking at her in that moment of silence, I understood why people fell in
love with her. I had been warned. I had heard the stories. I had read the
reports. And yet here I was suckered in the same way everyone was suckered in
the first time they saw her. She had a spirit energy about her that was
infectious. She brightened up a room. She had lived her life and grown up in
front of the cameras with a million gossip writers waiting for her to slip up,
and she never did. She made it through adolescence unscathed, a tough feat for
any kid, but damn near impossible with that money and the moochers and the
prying eyes.
She asked if I worked for her father, if I was
hired to spy on her. I nodded and she accepted it without me saying a word of
consent. I could see her relax. She shouldn’t have. She should have asked more
questions. Even if she believed I had been hired by her father, there was no good
explanation why I should be in her room so far away from the party.
She
told me I was bad at my job, telling her that I was a spy, but she joked that
if I was willing to help with the occasional lie of her own, then she could help
me out with an occasional secret bonus. Her father must have had a long history
of hiring body guards and detectives and she must have known a thing or two
about sneaking around behind his back.
I
told her I had no interest in telling her father any of her secrets. That was
true enough. She was hard to lie to, even the simple lie of omission. She
looked at you like she was letting you in on a little secret, like you were now
her closest friend or confidant. She must have been taught that by an acting coach
or something. Probably it was part of her lifelong training of dealing with the
public. Still, it was hard to lie to that. You wanted her to like you, to love
you. You wanted to be a part of whatever future she was selling you on. The
simplest lie seemed like the worst sin imaginable.
I
almost told her right then who I was and why I was there. I wanted to, but I
knew if I did I would never get to see her again, ever. And the thought of that
was just too painful.
I
thought about the other men I was with. I was the lucky one to have found her
first. But they would be here soon. I put my hand in my pockets, feeling my gun
with one hand and the zip tie handcuffs in the other pocket. I knew what I was
supposed to do. I also knew what I now wanted to do. I was going to do
something very stupid and very dangerous.
If
I got her out of here in one piece, all she would ever think was that I was
really good at my job. If she asked her father it would probably lead to some
confusion, but hopefully I would be long gone by then. Something about the way
she looked with those eyes of hers made me not want to go anywhere. But that
was just stupid. I knew that was just me being stupid.
When
the first former associate of mine came in the room, I fired before he had a
chance to say anything and reveal who I really was. I grabbed her arm and
pulled her with me. She had no idea how lucky she was that I was the one that
found her first. There was no way she could. The lucky ones never really
understand just how lucky they really were.
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