Chapter 106: I'm Sticking with This Guy

[Chapter 106: I'm Sticking with This Guy]

In America, the hottest sport was football, with college football coming in a close second. NCAA Division I was where the real excitement was, and among five major athletic conferences, the Southeastern Conference held the spotlight. The University of Florida was a part of one of these big leagues.

As a traditional powerhouse, the University of Florida, backed by its large population state, had produced countless NFL players, and Paul considered himself one of them. When the final whistle blew, signaling their victory over Alabama, the top team in the Southeastern Conference, Paul and his teammates embraced in celebration. Then they grabbed Gatorade drinks and towels to welcome the players coming off the field.

As a freshman, Paul's job was to watch and learn from the older guys while sitting on the sidelines. Even though he'd only gotten to play about two minutes total that season, he felt satisfied. After all, very few freshmen made it to the main roster; those who did were true prodigies. Peyton Manning was one of them, and even Tom Brady faced limited opportunities back in his Michigan days.

Thanks to his status as a "player on the field," he spent his first semester at college mingling with several upperclassmen girls, which felt like a huge win. However, this year, Florida didn't have a high ranking and missed out on major bowl games. They could only play in lower-tier bowls, more like exhibition games, which meant their season was wrapping up, and it was time to think about how to spend Thanksgiving.

"Did you hear? Ray opened a giant nightclub in Orlando! It's about the size of a football field!" Paul overheard teammates chatting and quickly jumped in.

"Yeah, it's under construction and is supposed to open before Thanksgiving," Paul said, thumping his chest. "I'm friends with Ray from way back -- should I help you score tickets?"

The players who were chatting glanced at Paul but then turned back to their conversation.

"A football field that big? Is it really that intense?"

"It might be a little smaller, but it's converted from a church. Don't you love Ray's music? You have to check it out! Just be warned; tickets are pricey -- $100 for Christmas events, drinks not included."

"$100? For that price, I could watch the Orange Bowl! And I'll be sitting in good seats!"

Paul's smile faltered. He was used to being a big deal back in Hendersonville, but at the University of Florida, he felt like just another nobody. He listened as his teammates continued to talk.

"Don't complain about the price! It's a chance to see A-list stars up close and personal. $100 is a steal. This morning, tickets for next year were already selling for over $1,500 on Ticketmaster."

"No way, that's impossible."

"What do you mean impossible? Three days ago the price was $1,000, and now it's shot up to $1,500. Taylor Swift and Paris Hilton are coming, and have you checked the lineup for the Christmas show? Besides Ray, there's..."

Paul had had enough and walked away.

$1,500? I could enter by scanning my face! Idiots! he thought to himself.

...

That evening, once Paul got back to his dorm, he immediately opened his computer and posted on the school's internal forum.

[Insider Alert! Yo, hot girls wanted! VIP access on opening night! Please post your photo in private chat, limited spots!!!]

The post only contained one image -- Ray standing at the renovation site. The stained glass behind him clearly showed the nightclub's interior, which Paul had snuck in while visiting Ray two days ago. The image even had his username's handwritten watermark to prevent anyone from stealing it.

Take you clueless girls with me? I'll just find some hot ones!

That night, when Paul checked the forum's backend, he was shocked to see the DM icon flashing 99+.

Holy cow! Am I that popular?

He clicked through the messages, many of which were revealing photos showing legs, breasts, and of course, more of their faces.

"Come on, baby! Holy cow!" Paul chuckled, grinning from ear to ear.

He was determined to have an unforgettable Christmas break!

Wait! Let's see if I can find someone better.

Whoa, those legs! Just what I need!

Cheerleader outfit? I know you; don't you have a boyfriend? Moving on...

...

A week later, inside a truck.

The cargo bay was filled with an odd blend of perfumes, making Paul sneeze more times than he could count. There were no windows, and it could only be illuminated by the flashlight of a mobile phone. There were at least twenty women dressed to the nines, looking glamorous in their sexiest outfits. But they all wore expressions of annoyance.

Since they got on the truck, they had been complaining nonstop.

"Ladies, I'm on a tight budget... just hold on a bit longer; we'll be there soon," Paul chuckled nervously.

"Are you serious? Ray had you recruit girls? I don't believe it!"

"Right!"

"Where are you taking us?"

"I want out!"

"I'm calling the cops!"

Just as things were about to spiral out of control, the truck suddenly halted. Paul heard knocking from the driver's seat and pressed his ear to the separator, then waved everyone down. "Everyone out, we're stuck in traffic; let's walk!"

A flood of girls spilled out, and they quickly realized the road was completely blocked for several miles.

"They can't all be headed to the nightclub, right?" Paul was the last one out, and he was both shocked and excited by the sight of all the traffic.

...

The girls wrapped their coats tight against the cold and reluctantly headed on foot to their destination.

Halfway there, the ladies in their high heels started to complain even louder, and Paul had to beg them to keep moving on their delicate legs.

Meanwhile, he spotted luxury cars lining the street: Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Porsches, Corvettes, Aston Martins, Nissans, Audis, and BMWs. These sleek cars were what Paul only ever saw in online pictures, and he was amazed to see them in person.

Seeing so many expensive cars together was like a sports car exhibition, although their haphazard parking was causing the traffic jam.

As they walked further, Paul noticed a group of women standing by the roadside, holding various signs flashing the "RT" logo.

"Ray Taylor, forever and always! Together for life!"

These women chanted in perfect unison, clearly without fatigue, their voices ringing out even in the cold winter air.

A little further, Paul saw a makeshift parking area, already packed with cars. Clearly, the crowd far exceeded expectations.

At the entrance, a few cops were on duty, ensuring order.

"Now that's something," Paul mused, grateful he had been wise in his connections.

...

The group finally arrived at the nightclub's entrance, where the sign had yet to be hung. The renovated Baroque-style church looked like a magical castle under the neon lights.

"There are too many people at the front; let me take you all in through the back," Paul waved the girls over.

At the back door, a few burly men stood guard, stopping Paul and his crew.

"I'll make a call," Paul pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Yes, I'm at the back entrance, Ray. I brought over twenty girls, all handpicked!" Paul chuckled. "Easy-peasy! If you ever need anything, even our female principal, I can arrange it..."

Behind him, the girls exchanged glances; they clearly heard him mention "Ray!"

Paul handed his phone to the doorman, and they were finally cleared to enter.

"Paul, I was just a little impatient earlier -- don't be mad."

"Paul, don't you have a girlfriend? How about I find you one?"

"Paul, what hair color does Ray like? Tell me!"

"Paul, what's Ray's number?"

"Paul..."

As they called his name in chorus, Paul felt the weight of the world lighten.

He silently vowed, "I'm sticking with this guy, Ryan!"

*****

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