Encounter

Chapter 6. Encounter

"This place sucks," I thought as I took a quick look at the hotel's main lounge. Bright lights, overly pretentious background music, and an expensive perfume smell that made everything feel charged. Laughter and conversation filled the air, but to me it only seemed like noise.

"Straighten up, Sack," my father, Victor Steele, muttered, adjusting the lapel of his impeccable black suit. His gaze, stern and calculating, rested on me for a second before moving toward the crowd. Tonight is important. At least try to look interested.

I bit my tongue so as not to reply. He knew that, for him, these meetings were the center of the universe. Victor Steele, a real estate mogul and one of the most influential businessmen in the city, had built his empire on discipline and a cold determination that he hoped, of course, that I would inherit. "As if that were going to happen," I thought as I tried to maintain a neutral expression.

We walked through the room together, and soon my father began to greet his acquaintances with a smile that, although calculated, managed to convince anyone of his warmth. I stood half a step back, watching everything like an involuntary spectator.

"Victor, you're finally here!" exclaimed a large, gray-haired man who approached with a glass of champagne in his hand. And I see that you brought your son.

"Edward, it's nice to see you," my father replied in that firm voice that seemed to dominate any conversation. Then he put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me forward slightly. This is Sack, my son. He's learning to hatch.

"Of course I do," I meant sarcastically, but I just nodded and held out my hand to Edward.

"Delighted," I said with the best smile I could pretend.

"Look at that, Victor!" He has a good handshake. That's a good sign," Edward joked as he laughed, letting out breath that smelled of expensive alcohol. My father smiled contentedly and continued the conversation.

As they talked about investments and future plans, my attention began to drift. My eyes swept around the room, watching the people move like pieces on a chessboard, all with clear goals and calculated strategies.

"Sack, did you hear me?" "My father's voice brought me back. I blinked and turned to him.

"What?"

Victor sighed, with that gesture he reserved for when I didn't meet his expectations.

"Edward was asking what you think of the housing market in the city center.

"Oh, of course. I think it has... potential," I replied, trying to sound convincing. Edward seemed satisfied with my vague answer and changed the subject without further ado.

My father said nothing, but the look he gave me was enough to make me feel that, once again, he had failed in his attempt to make Sack Steele his perfect successor.

Soon after, my father led me to another couple in a corner of the room, chatting with a small group. They were a smartly dressed man and woman, radiating that kind of assurance that only wealthy families have.

"Victor," said the man, raising his glass in a friendly gesture.

"Amelia, Thomas, it's my pleasure. Let me introduce you to my son, Sack," my father replied, beckoning to me.

"It's nice to meet you, Sack," said the woman, Amelia, with a warm smile. Her husband, Thomas, nodded politely as he shook my hand.

"The taste is mine," I replied, maintaining the polite tone I knew my father expected.

Victor and Thomas soon began talking about business related to the expansion of their hospital, their voices mingling with those of the other guests. Amelia, on the other hand, gave me a more curious look.

"How old are you, Sack?" He asked, bowing his head slightly.

"Eighteen," I answered, not quite understanding his interest.

"Just like my daughter," she said, smiling with an air of maternal pride. She is also eighteen years old and will begin studying medicine at Stanford this fall.

For an instant, my apathetic expression crumbled, showing a faint astonishment.

"Medicine?" At Stanford? I asked, trying to sound casual, although the coincidence took me by surprise.

"That's right," Amelia replied with a pleased smile. It has always been his dream.

"Interesting. I plan to study medicine at Stanford too," I said, still processing the coincidence.

Amelia seemed sincerely interested. "How small the world is. Maybe they will cross paths at university. I'm sure he'd like you.

I didn't know what to answer, so I just nodded, although I was curious about that girl.

I decided that enough was enough of feigning interest for one night. Although my father had insisted that I take the opportunity to make connections, I didn't see the point. I watched the boys and girls my age scattered around the room, laughing and chatting too excitedly. "A circus," I thought disdainfully.

Concealing my tiredness, I slipped away to one of the side doors. The air in the hallway was cooler, less stuffy than in the main hall. I walked aimlessly until I found a quieter part of the hotel, a secluded balcony that seemed almost forgotten by the other guests. I walked over, enjoying the relative peace as the bustle of the party muffled behind me.

The view from the balcony was spectacular. The city shone under a blanket of lights, each building and street radiating life of its own, then I saw a blonde girl leaning casually against the railing, looking out over the city. His presence took me by surprise, but I quickly recomposed. I recognized her instantly: Lindsay.

"It's amazing how the view from here is more interesting than any of the conversations inside," I said, looking back at the city.