Hutch felt an unfamiliar hand on his arm and opened his eyes to the view of the fireworks display. Looking down he saw it was Clara who had reached out to him. He could still hear Kahlala's voice being carried on the back of each explosion, beckoning him to return to her.
Feeling uneasy, he pulled away, and marched back towards the couch, where he grabbed up his jacket.
"Hutch?" Clara called out him, curiosity filling her tone.
"Forgive me. I've had too much to drink. I need to lay down," he replied, before disappearing down the hall and entering his room.
Closing his door, he leaned back against it, and sunk to the floor, pressing his hands over his ears, and closing his eyes, desperate to retain even the smallest fraction of the memory. He wanted to sink back into it. To be alone and undisturbed, so he could live in that place, in that moment, even if just for a few seconds longer. His dreams were as much of an escape as they were his nightmares. Self-inflicted torture, in desperation to remember all that he could. Hutch knew he'd lost perspective for a moment with Clara, and she'd managed to pull him from where he wanted to be.
He felt like a mess. His mind swarming. Lost between two worlds, in memories and emotions. Nothing was clear and all he wanted was to be with Kahlala again, even if it wasn't real. But the magic was gone, it had been broken. Try as he might, he could not slip away. As the fireworks ended, her voice faded with them. She was lost to him again, and the pain tore through him, bringing him to tears.
This evening had been too much. He'd tried to put Brett behind him for the rest of the year but had failed. He had tried to enjoy himself at the party, pretending it was just like old times when he'd sweep away the noble's wives so Cascel could pull intel from the husbands, but the reality never left him, regardless of the show he put on. Yet, when all was said and done, Clara had managed to crack his resolve, and his memories had made him crumble.
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he picked himself up from the floor and made his way towards the bed, catching himself in the reflection on the window. Stepping forwards, he gazed at his image, so young, dressed impeccably, surrounded by luxury, a vision so foreign to his own mind that he struggled to recognize himself.
"Would you even recognize me, my love?" he wondered out loud, lifting his hand to the pane.
Setting his fingertips to the surface, he leeched the cold from the outside world through the glass, closed his eyes, and imagined her laughter.
"What are you even wearing?" Kahlala's voice echoed inside his head.
"My first tuxedo. It was a gift from Casimir's wife, Celina. Don't you like it?"
"Well, you don't look bad in it," she would reply, and he imagined her wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on the back of his shoulder, pouting, "But how could you accept a gift from another man's wife? Especially his?"
"Because you aren't here," he remarked softly, and opened his eyes to see himself still alone in the reflection. "Gods, I miss you."
Lowering his hand, he turned away and returned to his bed, about to sit down when a knock came to his door.
"Hutch?" Clara's voice echoed in from the hallway.
"Yes?" he called back.
"I brought you a bottle of water."
Getting up he went to the door and opened it, seemingly startling her as she jumped back a bit.
"Thank you," he remarked, when she offered the bottle out to him.
"I'm going to head back down," she explained as he took the bottle from her. "Are you going to be alright?"
"Yes. I'm fine. Just needed a minute to sit down. It's like you said. I forgot I was seventeen. Apparently, I can't hold my liquor, like I'm used to. Nothing this," he held up the bottle of water, "and a good night sleep won't fix."
"I'll let my dad know you're off to bed then."
"No need," he replied, motioning for her to head back down the hallway. "I'll tell him myself."
"I don't need an escort, Hutch," she told him, as she opened the closet and pulled out a pair of flats.
"Of course, you don't," he replied, cracking open the bottle, and guzzling the majority of it down. "But now I need to stay up for a while longer and let this work its way through my system."
"Clever," she snickered, pressing the call button.
"And it would be terribly remiss of me to neglect my duties on my first day."
"Second day, technically. Happy new year, Hutch."
"Happy new year, to you also, Clara," he replied as the elevator doors opened.
He finished the rest of the water on the way down to the 65th floor, where people were already waiting to depart, despite the party still being in full swing. The band was still performing, people were still dancing, and the waitstaff was in the process of setting out the last of the dessert buffet.
Spotting her parents near the dance floor, through the windows, Hutch followed Clara back inside the restaurant, where they joined them.
"Welcome back," Casimir remarked at their arrival. "How'd you enjoy the show?"
"Lovely, as always," Clara replied, hugging her father. "Now, can you please tell Hutch to head off to bed? He practically fell asleep on the couch while we were waiting for the show to start."
"Certainly, but why don't you and your mom, go hit up the dessert bar before all the good stuff is gone. I'll be waiting for the two of you over at that table. Load up a plate for me while you're at it."
"Will do," Celina replied, before kissing his cheek. "As for you, I'll see you in the morning Hutch. Have a good night sleep."
Taking Clara's hand, they walked off towards the food, leaving Hutch to follow Casimir over to the vacant table he'd pointed out, off to the side, where the lights were dimmer.
"Did something happen?" Casimir questioned, as Hutch stood beside him.
"Nothing important. Why?"
"Because your face is red. And you look upset, not tired."
"Can't I be both?" Hutch replied, setting the empty bottle onto the tabletop.
"I've always liked your brand of honesty, Hutch."
"And what type is that?"
"The ask the right question, get an honest answer, type," Casimir replied, turning towards him. "Is it what happened with Brett?"
Hutched glanced around, feeling uncomfortable once again.
"Amongst other things, but nothing I want to talk about right now."
"Then go get some sleep, and we can talk about whatever you want to in the morning. Things will wind down here fairly quick now, but I won't head up until the last guest is gone."
"Security's covered until then?"
"And then some. Once the girls are done snacking, they'll head up to join you and I doubt Jay will be too far behind, since the tables close at the end of the hour."
"I'll leave the lights on for them."
Casimir smiled and nodded, extending out his hand. "Then here's to this new year, my friend."
"May it be better than the last," he replied, stepping closer as he took his hand and pulled him in. As if he knew, something was off, Casimir, reacted in kind, sharing a warm brotherly hug between them, that finished with affectionately stiff pats on the back, as Hutch whispered, "Brett's watching from the bar," in his ear.
"He came down after the fireworks with the woman he came here with," Casimir explained, keeping his back to the bar as they separated. "He seems to be keeping his distance and I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Now go, get some sleep, and I'll see you sometime later today."
Hutch didn't like it, be he knew he had to trust Casimir to handle the situation, at least for the remainder of that night. So, he nodded as Casimir tapped reassuringly at his shoulder, and promptly headed towards the exit of the restaurant.
Not unexpectedly, he felt as if he were being followed, and motioned to the guard at the door, to take no action as he passed by, and turned left out of doorway. When he was a few feet passed the entrance, he stopped and turned around, to see Brett, coming up behind him.
With a group of guests waiting by the elevator, and several more sitting along the benches, staring out at the otherworldly view, Hutch motioned for Brett to turn around, and followed him into the corner at the other end of the hallway, where the support column, provided some privacy from those still inside.
"Leaving already?" Brett questioned, a smug grin on his face, hands thrust out to his side.
"I have work to do," Hutch replied, as Brett closed the space between them.
"Can't say I'm not a bit hurt, watching you share a precious moment with your boss, and here you are acting like you can't even spare a minute for me."
Hutch looked down the hall again and saw the guests getting on the elevator. Even if it meant riding to the ground floor first, he would have rather been on that elevator than standing in a semi-secluded corner with Brett. But he'd just missed his best chance to escape.
"You're in luck," Hutch remarked, seeing little other options, almost all of which were violent in nature, "Turns out, I have several to spare, after all."