The guard was leading us through the tightly packed crowd of teens, middle-aged men, and some elderly. All of them gasped when they saw my blood-crusted face and neck; they probably think that I murdered someone. It was comical to me. The guard suggested that because he finds us to be likable, he would lead us into the building first before any authorities arrive. This way, I would be out of trouble. At least at the moment. After I either drop out or get incapacitated in the games, the law would eventually catch up to me as soon as I stepped outside into the free world. But, I okayed this gesture of unreasonable kindness and proceeded to follow him.
We climbed the white, marble steps again. This time, there were even more cleaning robots that hung near our trails of blood and mud. The guard opened the small, wooden doors and let us in. George went in first followed by Bill. I stepped in last.
I was amazed to the point where I couldn't keep it in my head, "Woah!"
The guard smiled and straightened his black and white suit. "I know right? Grey Corp went all out this year on the accommodations. The interior should look a little different than last time if I remember correctly." Remembered correctly he was. The previous claustrophobic walls that led to a small, wood-glazed desk were swapped out for an unbelievable auditorium filled with thousands of red, satin seats. There was a large stage that encompassed the far opposite side from where we were standing. The lights were ample and bright; they dotted the auditorium in various ways. Some were dangling from the ceiling from artificial vines that curved in the most perfect ways; others were stationed on the floors next to the seats. Brilliant chandeliers were hung every twenty feet away from each other; they were suns that illuminated the entire room hundreds of folds. Aside from the light, seats were separated into categories. Most of them were in the back, but they still had a perfect view of the stage. Few of the seats were in the front; the seats were decorated expensively. I guessed that those would be for the wealthier participants. There were even balconies that laced the left and right walls. Three layers of elevated seats were placed in the balconies. The whole room gave off a soft but strong beige color that went swimmingly with the dull reds of the seats. It was the most magnificent sight that I have ever laid my eyes on.
We all thanked our kind patron, the guard, and headed down the small steps that led to many rows of seats. George asked us, "You think we can sit in the balcony seats?"
Bill shook his head, "Nope. Those are probably reserved for the rich people."
George wasn't satisfied with the answer and retorted by saying, "Well, you never know until you try!" He raced over to one of the corridors that led to the balconies. We saw him bump into a dark-skinned man wearing a white and black suit, like the guard.
Bill sighed in disappointment, "I told him."
George stopped in front of the guard and- from what I could tell- tried to persuade him. The guard nodded his head a couple of times before George pointed his finger right at us. The guard raised his gaze and beckoned us over. We stood still. "What're you guys doing?! We can sit in the balcony seats!"
Bill's expression changed from bored to surprised. His eyebrows were raised in high arcs and his mouth morphed into an 'O'. We ran over and passed by the guard, saying our thank yous as we caught up to George. Bill questioned first, "What did you tell him?"
"Nothing. I told him we wanted to go up here, and he said that the seats were on a first-come-first-serve basis." He shrugged his shoulders, "It seems like the CEO of Grey Corp. isn't like the rest of the inner city. He's more like that old dud we met in the library."
I asked next, "Then, how come we didn't take the few first row seats? We could've had a better view."
George sputtered as he laughed, "Pfft! Are you kidding? Who the hell cares about the view when we can indulge in some expensive chocolates?" Bill and I stopped. We looked at each other and started to sprint up the spiral of stairs that led up to the balcony. George's voice chased after us as it echoed in the empty corridor, "Wait up guys! Well, at least SAVE SOME FOR ME!!!"
I laughed but still kept running with full throttle. When Bill and I reached the balcony area, I noticed that there was a thin but visible glass wall that severed us from the rest of the auditorium air. It was much cooler than outside, which was good because it was the middle of the summer. There were seven seats with even more seats that were available right outside. Bill and I rested on the dull red seats and waited for George to catch up. While we waited, I swerved my head to take more of the space. Clusters of reflector lights made various flowery designs on the ceiling. The original seven chairs had special functions and looked different than the ones outside. These ones looked more like one-seater sofas and had a reclining function. There was a multitude of glowing buttons that tempted me to press them. The walls were a light pink, but when Bill pressed a button on his chair, the walls turned into a light green hue. I fiddled around with the buttons as well. One button turned on metal balls inside the chair's satin exterior and massaged a myriad of areas. I let out a loud sigh of relief. It felt perfect.
Another button moved the chair in one direction while the other three buttons that were gathered near it helped it move in other directions. The most important button that I found was one that zoomed in certain areas of the thin glass wall. I was worried about not seeing the stage since that's where everything would essentially happen. But, the button rippled the nanobots in the glass. The robots distorted the glass and engendered a crystal-clear image of a zoomed-in stage. Cool.
"You motherfuckers!" George burst into the room. "I can't believe you pieces of shit left me behind like that!" He gasped for some air before he slunk into the chair next to me. "Ooo, nice features!"
Bill demanded what he was promised, "Where's all the expensive chocolate?"
"'Where's all the expensive chocolate?'" George sneered. He then retorted, "You sound like fucking baby!"
Bill remained unfazed and said, "You know we both sound the same, right?" To which, George pulled out his middle finger. I laughed.
I chimed into the fruitful conversation, "Maybe we should push the button that says 'snacks'."
Bill remarked, "Yeah right! Like there would be a button that simply said 'snacks'. I didn't know you were this stupid, Vincent!"
George smiled. "Third row, second button." He continued, "'Refreshments.'" George pressed the button.
*whrrrrrrr*
A small barely noticeable sound penetrated our ears. We all looked around and saw a massive elevator emerging from the ground. Part of the floor was on top of it while the sleek silver walls protruded from the ground. Inside the miniature elevator, there lay a jungle full of shelves with two compartments. Rows upon rows of food were presented before us. Not just expensive chocolates, but real foods. Chicken, steak, bacon, eggs, fresh fruits and vegetables, multitudes of bread and carbs, soft drinks, and juices. "Guys, I think we hit the motherload," George muttered.
"I think you're right, my dear brother," Bill responded.
I stared straight forward and said, "Let's raid it."
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Flin POV:
I'm watching little kids doing some weird things to food.
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Micheal Grey POV:
Angela and I never actually went anywhere because we were too indecisive. Instead, we spent the entire afternoon talking about our lives inside Jasmine. Let me take that back, that sounded weird: 'inside Jasmine.' We spent our entire afternoon talking about our lives inside Jasmine the CAR. Now, that's clear.
I learned some interesting stuff from Angela's side of the story. She was orphaned when she was six. She put herself through school and achieved modest marks that ultimately led her to me. It sounded like a simple life compared to mine. But then again, she was less than half my age. Angela looked down at her luscious thig- I internally slapped myself. I have to remind myself that she isn't a sex toy. She's the love of my life! AND...I wish I could...lay my head on...her thighs...
I realized I was perverted today.
She asked, "Micheal, it's your turn."
I was confused, "For what?"
She crossed arms around her chest, "You have to tell me about your past."
I thought about it. Dead mother, a murdered father, neglected childhood, arrogant genius, mass murderer, violent opportunist, cynical mindset. Would she really want to hear about my past? I finally said, "Nope."
She looked taken back, "That's not fair!"
"I don't believe in the law of equivalent exchange."
"But aren't you a scientist?"
"..." Fuck! she got me. "Life's not fair. Now, let's head back to your aunt's house, I've got something to do tonight." She pouted but agreed.
I told Jasmine to drop her off at her home as I climbed into another car. This one was manned by an actual driver. I followed Jasmine with my eyes as Angela left the company premises. The driver was an elderly man; he kind of reminded me of the guy who drove to that fateful day. I forgot his name. In a pleasant voice, he said, "Would you like a change of clothes, sir?"
"No, it's okay." I looked down at my attire. Crimpled white dress shirt, faded jeans, and a torn belt. I also smelled like sweat. "On second thought, please arrange a shower at the auditorium."
The driver nodded his head and pulled out his phone. I looked out the window to see an almost transparent full moon in the evening sky. A lot of things happened today. And, a lot of things are still going to happen. I sighed, today was a long day.