Post by thelori24 on Nov 19, 2016 5:20:32 GMT
This wasn't really Sam's world, and he knew it. He knew what he had been...a kid off a ranch in Wyoming, a soldier in the trenches in Europe...he knew what he was now, the muscle and the man who could get the job done for his employer. He knew he could work hard, he could rise through the ranks, he could pretend like crazy...but he didn't think he'd ever fit into this particular world, and he wasn't sure he wanted to either.
And this particular world he found himself in this evening was an overstated, elegant yet still strangely raucous party that filled up the club, thrown by his employer. It was new years eve and no expense had been spared in the decorations, the entertainment, the food and drink. The band played loudly off to one side and people danced and laughed and drank, dressed in clothes and jewelry that cost more for one outfit than Sam would see in a year.
Sam did not dance, but he did drink, standing near the bar carrying on small talk conversations with other guests. Most of the people here were various elite from various cities, of various levels of legitimacy in their claims to money and fame. A handful though were like Sam, favored picked from among the ranks of those that worked under him, ones he was watching and wanted to reward. Sam supposed that meant he was on his way...he'd worked hard to move ahead, and if showing that he was grateful for the chance to do so meant coming to this party...well...here he was.
He leaned his back against the bar, drink in hand, as his eyes scanned over the crowds, looking to pick out anyone he might know.
And this particular world he found himself in this evening was an overstated, elegant yet still strangely raucous party that filled up the club, thrown by his employer. It was new years eve and no expense had been spared in the decorations, the entertainment, the food and drink. The band played loudly off to one side and people danced and laughed and drank, dressed in clothes and jewelry that cost more for one outfit than Sam would see in a year.
Sam did not dance, but he did drink, standing near the bar carrying on small talk conversations with other guests. Most of the people here were various elite from various cities, of various levels of legitimacy in their claims to money and fame. A handful though were like Sam, favored picked from among the ranks of those that worked under him, ones he was watching and wanted to reward. Sam supposed that meant he was on his way...he'd worked hard to move ahead, and if showing that he was grateful for the chance to do so meant coming to this party...well...here he was.
He leaned his back against the bar, drink in hand, as his eyes scanned over the crowds, looking to pick out anyone he might know.
