The Party

Chapter 6

Allvar blinked, certain he had misheard. "One million…what? Are you serious?"

"As serious as I’ve ever been," his father replied, his voice smooth. "Consider it your first task as the future head of the family."

Allvar stared at him, then at the gold card, his mind reeling. "Dad, I…I don’t even know where to begin."

"You’ll figure it out," his father said, his grin widening. "Just remember, this is only the beginning. Enjoy yourself, Allvar. You’ve earned it."

Allvar stood there, stunned, as his father gave him a knowing nod. The weight of everything, the revelations, the responsibility, and the sudden windfall pressed down on him. But beneath it all, a flicker of excitement began to stir. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.

****

Allvar stepped out of the taxi and stared up at the neon-lit sign of the bar. The party was being held in one of the biggest and most extravagant bars in the city, yet he still felt a strange unease. His father’s words echoed in his mind, 'Spend a million dollars.'

It was ludicrous. How was he even supposed to do that at a graduation party? His head still spun from the revelation about his family, but for now, he needed to focus.

He walked into the bar, the heavy doors swinging shut behind him. The place was nearly empty, his classmates hadn’t arrived yet. Still, the pulsating music and dim lighting gave the bar an atmosphere of wealth and indulgence.

Allvar spotted the bar at the far end of the room and made his way over, trying to mask his nerves.

He approached the bartender, a burly man with a stern expression, and leaned against the counter. "Hey," Allvar began, glancing around before locking eyes with the bartender. "What’s the most expensive drink you’ve got here?"

The bartender barely looked at him, giving only a brief, dismissive glance before returning to polishing a glass. "Busy," he muttered, his tone flat.

Allvar frowned, his eyebrows knitting in frustration. "Excuse me?"

The bartender didn’t even bother turning fully toward him. "I’ve got other things to handle. I’ll have someone else deal with you." With that, the bartender gestured to a young girl standing behind the counter, barely noticeable until now. She looked timid, almost startled by the call.

The girl shuffled over, her hands fidgeting nervously. "I-I can help you. What would you like?"

Allvar watched as the bartender moved away, whispering to another bartender and casting a glance in his direction. Their snickers were unmistakable.

"Look at his clothes," one of them murmured, thinking they were out of earshot. "He’s probably just here to ask about prices, not buy anything. Waste of time."

Allvar’s jaw clenched, but he bit back the urge to snap.

'Let them think whatever they want,' he thought. He turned his attention back to the timid girl, her face anxious as she waited for his response.

"So," Allvar began, trying to soften his tone. "What’s the most expensive drink you’ve got here?"

She blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "The…uh, the most expensive? Well, that would be the Éternité champagne. It’s ten thousand dollars per bottle."

Allvar raised an eyebrow. "Ten thousand dollars, huh?"

The girl nodded quickly, glancing at the bartender, who was still laughing quietly with his colleague.

Allvar could feel his frustration bubbling up again, but then an idea struck him.

'If I’m going to spend a million, I might as well make it interesting.'

"I’ll take a hundred bottles," Allvar said, his voice steady.

The girl’s eyes widened, her jaw nearly dropping. "H-Hundred bottles? Are you serious?"

"Does it sound like I’m joking?" Allvar replied, his voice calm but firm.

The bartender, who had overheard, suddenly froze mid-laugh and turned to stare at Allvar.