ANDRE
Nick Noah stood at the stairs overlooking his guests, holding a glass and a spoon in his hands. The sodding man was wearing a blue tux and a white dress shirt underneath that. The chandelier light reflected dimly on his head. Andre had taken one look at the buffet table and had gone looking for much stronger alcohol. Everything the party had to offer was light weight, rich people liquor. And no matter how wealthy Andre became, one thing he could never conform to was rich people alcohol. It made him feel like an imposter. It always did. Luckily, he had brought a small cask of whiskey which was in the breast pocket of his clothes, so he edged into a corner of the room and proceeded to extract it. He took small sips of the burning liquid as he watched the crowd.Nick knocked the spoon against the glass again and again and it made a sharp clanking noise. He had everyone's attention in a few moments.'Welcome!' He boomed. A cheer rose up to answer his saluJACKIE'When was the last time you were at a party?' Jackie asked Dante as they walked the length of the hall together, walking so close to each other that their hands touched occasionally.'What?' Dante asked over the din of the music.'I said, when was the last time you were at a party?' She said again. 'A real party.'Dante had both hands in his pocket; he took one out and ruffled his hair in thought. 'When? I do not remember.'She laughed. 'That long ago?''It is not like I kept tabs. If there was a party, I just went. And then, one day I stopped.''Why did you stop?' Jackie asked. Dante was so tall, she had to look up at him. He had at least a head or two above Neil, and that, she thought, was really saying something.A masked woman sashaying past slid her hand down Dante's arm as she went. He smiled politely at her but never slowed his stride.'For one,' he said, 'I graduated college. And then, I started a club.'Jackie f
ANDREAndre liked to think that the worst things that could have happened to him had already happened. But when Nick and the crowd of onlooking mob bosses recognized Dante as one of them, Andre knew that Trent was just one of the incidents life had in store for him; that the worst was still a long time coming, that the world still had more in store for him.He stalked through the ball afterwards, barely able to contain the full width his anger. Somehow it seemed as though he had unwittingly handed even more power to the Bianchi boy than he had had the onset. In the process of trying to fix things, he seemed to only be making them much worse than they already were.He was at a corner of the room, leaning against a intricately designed Corinth-style column that stood tall in the ball room, watching the dance floor. To crown it all, Dante had found a woman, he was dancing with her. He was elated, if Andre was to tell by the look on his face.'You have any more
DANTEThe day that Dante returned to New York after his graduation, the first thing that he did was go to the Red Wolf Brooklyn. It was a small restaurant on 97 Wythe Avenue that his mother used to take him to, famed for its meat specialty. There was mezze, and there was meat and, of course, the best French fries that the entire city had to offer. At least, in his mother's opinion. The first few times that Dante had been there in that small, cramped space sizzling with aromatic spices, he had felt nausea. The meat was too seasoned he had said, and his father, Raymond, made a joke that it felt as though the air itself was seasoned. But they had gone at his mother's order, because that was simply the way that things were with them. The place had begun to grow on them and eventually, it became what his remembered his mother liked to call the ‘family spot’.Now as Imani parked the car in front of the building, he stared at it, wondering how in God's name he had made an impulse decision to
ANDREThe Torrents was still open when Andre left the masquerade ball—at least according to the crimson lights that still shone at the front and inside the bar. From outside, the CLOSED sign that hung at the door was quite visible.Andre pushed the door open and the door bell jangled_ announcing his arrival. He was quickly encircled by the tepid air in the bar, a temperate contrast from what was to be had outside the double doors. Andre had not walked five steps into the room when the almost noiseless tap of bare feet on floor came padding towards the front. There was a rustling and Gloria burst through the gaudy curtain that separated the main bar from the rest of the building.'You cant be in here now, I am sorry. The sign outside says we are closed, doesn't... oh.' Recognition light up in her eyes. 'Andre, it is you.'Andre had switched his formal clothes for street gear. He pushed down the hood of his sweatshirt. The weight of the fabric rested in his back.'Gloria,' he said simpl
He took her in with his eyes.She was dressed as she often was at hours after closure: in loose but revealing clothes, that showed off her midriff and shoulders. A thin layer of sweat shone on her brow, on the bit of her chest that the clothes left bare to the eye. She was staring at him too, he realized, with something like contemplation in her eyes.Under the scrutiny of her gaze, Andre wanted to stand straighter, he wanted to be taller, broader, even ythough he already was those things. More than most people were. There was something about the bar-woman that made him want to be better, to be the things he was not. The only person in this world who had ever had that effect on him was Molly. Not Big Jack, definitely not Raymond Bianchi, both of whom he had admired at a certain point. Both of whom he still admired distantly.It was only Molly. Sweet Molly of blessed memory.He pushed the thought of Molly away. Because, look how it ended. Look how she ended. In an alleyway. Everybody
Jackie‘How many parts of this city have you been to?’ Jackie asked him once they were back in the car.'Most parts,' Dante answered, 'Why?'His face was illuminated by the headlights of a passing rickety truck, and for a short moment, he was as silvery as the moon.She shrugged. 'Just asking.''You want to know how many places I intend to show you before the day ends, so you know if you can make it back early enough to be ready for work tomorrow, is it not?''Touché.' She said.He grinned. 'Don't worry. This is the last.'His body guard again maneuvered the car around in silence until they got to the place. The place, as it turned out, was his father's corporation: Bianchi Enterprises.The building structure loomed high above them, towering into the sky and nearly disappearing behind the clouds. Dante pushed open the car door and stepped down. Jackie slipped through the other door. The howling wind hit her smack
Spears The new commissioner of Police, Coleman Spears, was the sort of man who kissed God often.He was Catholic, and an earnest one at that. But he had one tragic flaw: like the commissioner before him and the one that came before that one, and the one that came years before his predecessor's predecessor, he did not mind taking a few wads of cash to look the other way. What else was he supposed to do? he argued each time his conscience chewed at him. It was logical. Regardless of what the police or any other person did, there would always be crime lurking in the dark corner a of the city. That was the thing about big cities and flashy places, they drew people to them en masse and since all people had their vices, they came carrying their shit along.The safest way to make sure that people did not get hurt, quite often, was to look the other way. To pretend not to see. But sometimes, looking the other way brought even more trouble. Sometimes, the best way to keep the city safe was t
NickThe old man hated formalities and formal events. He reserved a special loathing for anything that a ceremony could be made out of.Why could life not be simple?He did not have the answer to that.Nick turned on the lights in the study. The room smelled as it always did, like PineSol and the aging books he had never gotten around to reading. He strode in and went straight for the ice glass.'I will be the first to admit,' Spears started, 'at first glance, I did not take you for a reader.''I am not.' Was the gruff reply that Nicholas gave him.'Yet, your shelf begs to differ.' The man slipped off his mask and put it away. Thankfully. He resembled an ox enough without an help. Spears had a bull's neck, a stern moustache and a trimmed goatee, and hooded eyes that seemed to miss nothing. The mask had downright turned him into an ogre. Nicholas had thought them a good idea until he spotted Spears trying to blend into the crowd.The man dumped