The Party

As Travis and I donned our masks, preparing to blend into the sea of waitstaff at the exclusive party, a surge of adrenaline washed over me. This was the moment we had been planning for, and the gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks.

"These slacks are so ugly!" Travis complained, tugging at the fabric of his trousers. "These are the same ones my dad tried to get me into. Good thing he isn't involved in this crap, he'd probably give you his fortune for making me wear men's clothing."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his remark, despite the tension in the air. "You're only here because no one would recognize you as a guy," I quipped back, trying to lighten the mood. "I have your girl clothes here, so keep your boxers on."

Travis shot me a playful glare, but I could see the excitement gleaming in his eyes. "You meanie!"

"Shut up!" I said with mock severity, though a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Let's get the hell out there! And remember, meet back outside five minutes after the video finishes playing. Got it, Travis?"

"Right!" Travis nodded, his expression turning serious as we prepared to carry out our plan. With a final glance at each other, we stepped out into the buzzing ballroom, ready to execute our scheme and expose the truth.

As Travis and I made our way through the bustling corridors of the luxurious venue, I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt gnawing at the pit of my stomach. Travis had not only managed to secure us entry to the exclusive party but had also orchestrated our roles as waitstaff, a feat I had never imagined he could accomplish.

"I have to admit, I underestimated you, Travis," I confessed.

Travis flashed me a knowing smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "No worries, Alex. You're not the first, and you won't be the last," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

I nodded, feeling a mixture of admiration and humility wash over me. Despite his flamboyant exterior, Travis was proving himself to be a force to be reckoned with, possessing a resourcefulness and cunning that I had failed to recognize.

"We make a pretty good team, huh?" Travis remarked, nudging me playfully as we approached the grand ballroom where the party was in full swing.

"Yeah, we do," I agreed, a newfound sense of respect blossoming within me for my eccentric companion. Together, we were poised to execute our plan flawlessly, and I couldn't help but feel grateful to have Travis here.

The ballroom exuded opulence and grandeur, with towering ceilings adorned with ornate chandeliers casting a soft, golden glow over the room. Elaborate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of extravagant feasts and noble gatherings, adding to the sense of regal splendor.

Elegant guests mingled throughout the space, their attire ranging from sleek tuxedos and designer gowns to intricate dresses adorned with sparkling jewels. Each guest exuded an air of sophistication and refinement, their polished manners and graceful movements a testament to their affluent status.

At the center of the room, a grand stage had been erected, where a live band serenaded the crowd with enchanting melodies, filling the air with the dulcet tones of jazz and swing. Crystal-clear champagne flutes and silver platters adorned with delectable hors d'oeuvres floated effortlessly through the crowd, attended to by impeccably dressed waitstaff who navigated the room with practiced ease.

As Travis and I made our way through the throng of guests, I couldn't help but marvel at the spectacle before me. It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale, where wealth and luxury intertwined seamlessly to create an atmosphere of unparalleled extravagance.

Travis and I watched as my father ascended the stage, his hand resting with pride on my older brother's shoulder. His voice, though steady, quivered with emotion as he addressed my brother, Anthony, on the cusp of his thirty-fifth year.

"Anthony," he began, the words laden with significance, "you've reached the independent age of thirty-five. Your presence at the company has been nothing short of exemplary, and today, I can confidently say that I can hand it over to you without any worries."

Despite his efforts to maintain composure, the raw emotion in my father's voice betrayed the depth of his feelings. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, a testament to the pride and love he felt for my brother in this pivotal moment.

It was a scene that resonated with the audience, each member captivated by the sincerity and gravity of my father's words. And as he stood there, on the brink of passing the torch to the next generation, there was a palpable sense of reverence in the room—a recognition of the legacy being upheld and the future being entrusted to capable hands.

In that moment, a wave of disgust washed over me, mingling with the pride and solemnity of the occasion. The sight of my father, his voice choked with emotion as he bestowed his blessing upon my brother, filled me with a sense of revulsion.

It wasn't just the lavish display of familial affection that turned my stomach, but the underlying hypocrisy and deceit that tainted the entire affair. Behind the facade of unity and celebration lurked a web of lies and betrayal, a stark reminder of the falsehoods that had torn our family completely apart. The charade of loyalty and devotion only served to deepen my contempt, fueling my resolve to expose the truth and dismantle the facade of perfection that had been carefully constructed.

"I'm sure I'll double our profits within the first six months," Tony boasted arrogantly, his voice ringing out over the crowd.

"And of course, we can't forget your beautiful wife and children," our father interjected, gesturing towards Tony's family with pride.

"Thank you, Dad," Tony replied, his gaze shifting to his wife and children with a self-satisfied smirk.

Tony's smug expression as he accepted my father's praise made my blood boil. His arrogance was palpable, his ego inflated by the prospect of inheriting the family business. Only I knew that beneath the veneer of success lurked a man consumed by insecurity and paranoia, threatened by the mere presence of his younger brother.

For years, Tony had viewed me as a rival, a shadow looming over his ambitions. While he basked in the adulation of the crowd, I remained an outsider, relegated to the sidelines of our family's legacy. But despite his attempts to diminish my significance, I knew that my intellect and determination would always set me apart from him, even with my less-than-ideal attitude.

As my father acknowledged Tony's wife and children, I couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. The picture-perfect facade of familial bliss only served to highlight the collateral damage there would be.

It was a necessary sacrifice.

"Jasper! You made it!" I heard a shrill voice call out. "I'm so happy you're here! I've been waiting quite a while for you! Where's your dance partner? I even called multiple times to remind you! How could you forget?"

"I'll just not dance since I don't have a partner. It's your brother's thing anyway. He's the star here," Jasper muttered, clearly uninterested in my sister's advances.

What the hell was he doing here?

"I don't have a partner either, can I ask you to dance? Take it as the start of a pleasant partnership," my sister said suggestively while reaching out for Jasper.

Jasper nearly avoided her touch. "My apologies. There are some pressing matters the chief needs me to deal with. I'll be leaving really soon."

"There's always next time! When the party reaches its peak, they're going to show a slideshow of my brothers and I growing up," she tried to be cute.

"Do your brothers like this stuff?" Jasper asked my sister, probing with curiosity.

"Not really, my parents do," she said, her demeanor shifting slightly under Jasper's scrutiny. "My brothers never liked decorating. They're too masculine."

"Emily, you told me you only had one brother. Now it's brothers?" Jasper suddenly turned on the heat.

"My...my younger brother died five years ago. I don't like to talk about him," my sister recovered, her voice tinged with nervousness.

"You just did. And why are you so nervous? I heard people talking about a younger brother at the entrance. Could it be you had something to do with his death five years ago?" Jasper's inquiry cut through the air like a knife, leaving my sister speechless and red-faced. "Maybe your brother had something to do with it."

I couldn't believe it. Jasper had effortlessly shut her down and exposed her discomfort. It was a sight to behold, and strangely attractive.

It was indeed perplexing why Jasper had an invitation to my brother's succession party. Was he here on official police business, or was there some other reason for his presence? My mind raced with questions as I tried to piece together the puzzle of Jasper's unexpected appearance at such a significant event in my family's life.

Jasper's gaze bore into my sister with suspicion, his eyes narrowed as if trying to uncover some hidden truth behind her words. There was an intensity to his scrutiny that made me wonder what exactly was going on between them, and why he seemed so wary of her interest in him.

"Emily! Come here!" I heard my dad call.

"Sorry, Jasper, my dad is looking for me. I'll leave you alone but do have a good time," Emily winked flirtatiously and scurried off as quickly as she could.

As Jasper's head turned, his gaze locked onto me with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. Grateful for the mask concealing my identity, I maintained the facade of a diligent waiter, keeping my movements steady and controlled despite the surge of panic rising within me. With each step Jasper took, his determination became palpable, his gaze unwavering as he closed the distance between us.

Jasper's sudden approach sent a shiver down my spine, the weight of his gaze bearing down on me like a spotlight in the darkness. I turned away in a rush, my heart pounding in my chest as I pretended to focus intently on my waiter duties. Weaving through the elegant crowd, I bumped into several other waitstaff, hoping to create enough confusion to throw Jasper off my trail.

With each collision, my anxiety soared, the fear of being discovered gnawing at the edges of my consciousness. I couldn't afford to let Jasper uncover my presence here—it would jeopardize everything. As I maneuvered through the ballroom, dodging and weaving, I glimpsed Jasper's determined stride in my peripheral vision, his resolve unyielding.

Finally, with a sense of desperation driving me forward, I made one last attempt to shake off Jasper's pursuit. Ducking behind a cluster of elegantly dressed guests, I paused, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I waited for the inevitable confrontation.

To my relief, Jasper's footsteps faltered, and he stopped abruptly behind me. I held my breath, praying that he wouldn't recognize me. Then, a voice—too deep to be mine—spoke from behind.

"Is something wrong, sir?" the waiter's voice rang out, masking my identity with its unfamiliar tone.

"Uh, sorry. I thought you were someone I knew," Jasper muttered, his confusion palpable in the air. With a silent sigh of relief, I watched as he retreated, his presence fading into the throng of partygoers.

Jasper's persistence in seeking me out felt unnerving. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was onto something, and his determination to speak with me again only added to my growing anxiety. His refusal to drop the matter made me wonder if he had uncovered something about my past that I wasn't yet aware of, or if he simply sensed that I was hiding something significant. Whatever the reason, his relentless pursuit was becoming increasingly unsettling, leaving me desperate for a way to evade his probing inquiries and maintain my carefully constructed facade. The prospect of another confrontation with him was draining.

I hate the feeling.