My life has always been average. I sleep in on a daily basis, play an unhealthy amount of video games, and lack a healthy social life. However when one of colleagues from work volunteered me as his "plus one" to a party he was invited to, I felt like this could be my chance to change things. Ben is a tolerable coworker to say the most. His cubicle is across from mine and is decorated top to bottom with nearly every band from the 80's, which is probably why I feel most comfortable around him due to our similarities. "Just wear something you'd wear to an authentic Italian restaurant" He tells me. "Like my wardrobe consists of luxurious clothing, Ben. I'll do my best not to embarrass you at your swanky party." I retorted with sarcasm. He rolled his eyes and walked off while holding his middle finger up behind him. "Be ready at five o clock sharp, Ian." He says as he rounds the corner and disappears from sight. I spent most of the afternoon contemplating whether on not to go through with it or take my own death to avoid the humiliation. My outfit consisted of a black button I bought for my father's funeral five years ago, with worn down khaki slacks and two sizes too small brown leather loafers. This is what I considered fancy. As I pull out my phone to call Ben and cancel, I hear his horn going off in my driveway. "Fantastic." I say to myself. It was a long quiet car ride, mainly because Ben was on the phone most of the ride trying to assure his fiancé that he would be back before midnight sober. We all knew that was a lie. We arrived at a house that can only be described as a 16th century castle preserved throughout history. Located who knows where up a long winding road in the middle of the woods. "Classic setting of a horror movie Been, nice one. Who's party is this anyway?" I ask "Honestly, I don't know. I found the invite on the subway to work last week." He said. My stomach turned. "Are you joking me, Ben? Really, you drag me to a party that neither of us have been invited to, in the middle of nowhere!" I could've punched him I was so mad. "Hey man, chill! There's gonna be so many people here they won't even notice us. Free booze and so many women to score, you'll be thanking me five years from now. Just trust me, Ian." We walk up the steps, regardless of my fuming anger at the moment, I couldn't deny how beautiful the home was. Ben knocks on the door and there is no answer. "You know for a party there sure is a lack of loud music." I jokingly say, and suddenly the door opens. Behind it is man dressed in a golden suit that looks as if my own life wouldn't even be worth it. "Welcome. Passphrase is required for entry" The man says staring me dead in the eyes. Ben also looks at me as if I know the password. "Please...?" Is all I can muster out. My cheeks feeling like a fire has been lit underneath them. The man continues staring, and then steps aside and opens the door. "No way dude, you got it!" Ben says punching me in the arm. There was no way that was the correct passphrase, no way at all. Inside were people dressed as if they spent millions on their outfits. I stuck out like a sore thumb and everyone knew it. Most of the people however weren't really paying us much attention, but I did catch a few unapproving glances. We decide to sit at the bar of all places. This night is predictable, Ben will get trashed and get us kicked out. End of story, which honestly sounds like the best path to go down because I wanted nothing more than a reason to leave this swanky party. I have had about three shots of scotch, knowing I'd have to drive us home I decided to stop. I lost count of Ben's shots after six of them and he was already laughing at himself so I knew it'd be over soon. "So Mr. Bartneffer how did YOU get so much money?" Ben asks, humiliating me. "Ben stop, let's go home" I suggest. "Its quite alright Mr. Crawford, I can handle drunken banter." The bartender responds. How did this man know my last name? "I'm sorry-" Ben cuts me off. "Did you kill somebody for all of that money, have you killed anyone before? Huh?" The bartender just chuckles and looks over across the bar at a man observing our conversation, and then says "Mr. Rodriguez, I don't do the killing. I do the sedating." To be continued for Demix's next HSC contest. Hope you guys enjoy it and let me know any feedback or if youre looking forward to it being continued or not. I'm looking forward to finishing it.