"This is fucking ridiculous."
The urge to roll his eyes was resisted as Hank's gruff voice pulled him from his inner musings. It wasn't the first time Hank has made this particular statement tonight and Conner would bet his inheritance that it wasn't going to be the last time he would hear it. He did allow himself a quiet sigh as he prepared for another loud and over-the-top Hank Anderson rant. That man had almost no brain-to-mouth filter on certain things. Maybe that's what Conner loved the most about him.
"You're already marrying the girl. Why that hell do you need an engagement party?"
"It's important to keep up appearances, Hank." Conner reminded him, calmly picking a piece of lint off his immaculately kept dress pants.
"Appearances be damned. This party is all for her and you know it." Hank replied with a scoff. "You'd think she was the one getting hitched."
The smile on Conner's face faded quickly. He was well aware of what tonight was for, a chance to get the Stern name back into the spotlight. He just wished it wasn't focused in on him. Sensing the drop in the mood, Hank glanced at his charge through the rearview mirror. The poor boy was gazing out the window like he was in a 90s love ballad. He could see the gears in his baby-faced brain turning, producing scenario after scenario of how everything could go wrong. "Hey," he called, and Conner blinked, coming out of his head. "It's going to be fine, Con. You'll see."
The smile was back. "Thanks, Hank."
"Don't mention it, kid." Hank replied with a smile of his own, but it was dropped for a stern expression. "It at anytime you feel like you need a break, you get the fuck out of there. I don't care if she doesn't approve. Your mental health is more important than any image she's trying to maintain. Got it?"
"Got it."
The Rolls Royce rolled to a gently stop outside the entrance to the Chateau de la Reine. An eager young valet swiftly opened his door and Conner stepped out smoothly. His expression shifted into friendly neutral and he entered the building, the definition of grace and poise. Hank fall into step behind his right shoulder, hardened gaze scanning the area around them with trained efficiency. They barely got through the door when a middle-aged woman in a black business suit and high heels ambushed them.
"Hello, Welcome to the Chateau de la Reine. If you would follow me, please." It was right down to business as they followed her through the front lobby. Conner's shinned dress shoes clicked quietly on the polished, white marble floors and he tried not to grimace at the interior design of the hotel. It was like Louis the fourteenth threw up with all the royal red carpets and gold moldings. The Palace of Versailles called, they want their furniture back.
"The party is on the tenth floor, ballroom ten fifty-seven." The hostess informed them with a sickly-sweet voice and wide, fake smile.
"Thank you," Conner replied bowing his head slightly to the woman.
The woman's smile warmed a little. "Enjoy your stay here at the Chateau de la Reine." She turned on her heel and left them to board an ornate elevator.
"They do realize that the French Revolution was in the late 1700s, right?" Hank commented, fiddling with the clear earpiece in his ear. His grey hair was pulled into a small pony-tail at the back of his head. Conner recalled Amanda's reaction to the man he had hired as his personal bodyguard. She had looked him up and down with that laser gaze and said she wasn't too impressed with the scraggly hair that hung in the man's face, saying it could be a 'a potential hazard to his ability to see anything past the grey, unwashed curtain in his eyes'. When he left, Amanda had full expected him to come back clean cut. Instead, he had come back supporting a ridiculous man bun, that it took all of Conner's will power not to crack a smile in her line of sight at the clear defiance from an employee. He had taken a liking to the quick-witted, grumpy man.
"1789-1799." Conner replied to his comment easily.
"Exactly what I said." The elevator pinged as the doors slid open. The inside, unfortunately, matched the lobby. "Jesus, I feel like I should be wearing a powdered wig or something."
"I think you would look dashing in a powdered wig, Lieutenant."
"Shut up," Hank huffed as Conner let out a soft chuckle.
It wasn't long before they were dropped off at the tenth floor. The need to search for ballroom ten fifty-seven was lost as they were spotted by an elegantly dressed individual waiting at the elevator. Looking at him was almost like looking into a mirror for Conner, except for the slight height difference and the icy blue eyes. "Hello, Conan."
"You're late," was his greeting. "You were expected ten minutes ago."
Conner's brow furrowed. "I was told to arrive at seven o'clock. It's six fifty-nine."
"Mother expected you to be early."
"If Mother expected me to be early, then she should have told me to be early." Conner replied coolly.
Conan's eyes only narrowed at his retort before his spun sharply and marched down the hallway, not bothering to check and see if they were following him. Conner heaved another quite sigh before continuing after his brother. This was already turning out to be a long, frustrating night.
Conan didn't lead them directly to the ballroom but to a room across from it where his mother, fiancée and her family were all waiting for him.
"There you are! We were worried you were stuck in traffic or something." Chloe, his stunningly beautiful and sweet fiancée, exclaimed and came to greet him with a chaste kiss on his cheek. Even with her six-inch silver heels, she had to stand on her tip-toes to reach him. Her royal blue evening gown hugged every curve and flared out just at her thighs. Blue lace roses decorated the half sleeves and bodice of the dress and drew attention to the creamy skin of her chest and slender neck. Blond hair was tied into an elegant knot at the base of her skull as small curls were left to frame her face. The only jewelry she wore were diamond roses clipped to the soft lobs of her ears. Light eyeshadow and mascara brought out her steel blue eyes as red lipstick enhanced her lovely smile. She was a vision in every sense of the word and he felt very plain next to her.
He was suddenly very aware of the stray curl that refused to rest anywhere other than his forehead. It seemed that all the looks went to Conan as he could draw heads with his imposing figure and steely gaze. His white suit with black dress shirt and accents seemed so much more appealing than his plain black tux and tie.
"Or something indeed." Conner's attention shifted to the woman Conan had moved to stand beside and he made sure to school his expression.
Amanda Stern was everything her last name defined, stern. She was cold and calculating in both appearance and presence. Her beauty was in reference to snow and frost, smile cut to shape and dark ice glittering with black ice. It was appropriate that her dress of choice tonight was a white A-line with full sleeves. A necklace of square white crystals hung around her neck as triangle earrings dangled from her ears. Braided hair was pulled up in its usual twist.
"Well, he's here now and we can get started." Lorene, Chloe's mother, clapped her petite hands together.
Same height as her daughter, Lorene Kamski wore a lavender dress that seemed just a bit too small for her. Bleach blond hair cascaded down her back and over her bare shoulders. She was bejeweled with diamonds around her neck, in her hair, hanging from her ears, jiggling on her thin wrists, and around her slender fingers. She wobbled in her too-high heels. Her husband, Noah, was unassuming next to her. Hair thinning and belly straining against the buttons of his suit jacket.
The one carrying out the Kamski name was Chloe's older brother, Elijah. He was the true mastermind behind Cyberlife, Kamski's Fortune 500 company. The man was head of the R and D department. He was the spearhead of artificial intelligence, claiming to have a plan to bring walking, talking androids into the real world in the next decade. He was dressed similarly to Conner with hair up in his signature manbun, showing off the buzz cut underneath. His eyes always held a spark in them and, when paired with a smirk, spelled out mischief.
"We'll head inside first and the announce you to the guest. Do you remember your que?" Lorene asked.
"Yes, Mom." Chloe admonished with a giggle. "We'll be right behind you."
The Kamskis lead the heard, followed by Conan, though he gave Elijah a wide birth. Sharp, manicured nails grabbed Conner's arm tightly and tugged him down. "Make me proud," Amanda hissed into his ear before placing a soft kiss right on his cheekbone.
Conner's expression never changed though he felt a chill run down his spine. He didn't react. He could feel Hank's eyes on the back of his head as he straightened and watched Amanda walk out without glancing back. He drew in a deep breath. "Nervous?" Chloe asked with a smile.
"No. You?"
She nodded. "Very, these parties always make my insides fell like noodles. I always feel like I'm going to do something silly in front of everyone." She confessed. They had that in common it seemed.
"Yes. That sounds about right." He took another deep breath and plastered on a smile that was as jovial as he could manage. "Ready?"
Her delicate hand slipped into his arm. "As I'll ever be."
Conner stole a glance back at Hank, who gave him a knowing look. He had a feeling they were going to be having a talk about his 'feelings' after tonight and he hid a grimace. He really wished tonight was over already.
They heard their que and strode into the ballroom to polite applause. Nodding to guests as they passed, they both reached their designated spot. Conner resigned himself to not leaving this spot for the rest of the night. He chatted and smiled with each and every guest that came to give them congratulations on their impending engagement and then somehow steer the conversation to themselves. Despite her earlier words, Chloe was the perfect hostess, keeping that lovely grin on her face with each person and giving them her undivided attention. That was why she was so popular with the inner circles. She had this uncanny ability to make you feel like the most important person in the world and the higher-ups loved all the ego stroking. She deserved someone who could love and cherish her like she deserved, and she was stuck with him.
He knew Amanda was watching him like a hawk even as she exchanged pleasantries with the Mayor and his too young wife. Sweat was beginning to form under his collar and his hands were starting to get that all too familiar shake. The accompanying static of an oncoming anxiety attack was growing louder in his ears. Remembering his promise to Hank, he politely excused himself from the current conversation, placed another peck to Chloe's rosy cheek, and tried not to flee as he made eye contact with Hank. He made a beeline for the balcony with his diligent bodyguard hot on his heels.
The air was much cooler out here and it was easier to pull into lungs that wanted to rebel. He began taking deep slow breaths, letting his body calm down from fight-or-flight mode. "Hey," a warm hand slid onto his shoulder as Hank caught up with him. He had angled his body to block out the sight of the party inside and Conner was grateful for the chance to trick his body into believe it was just him and Hank. It helped him to relax. "Are you ok?" Hank asked concerned.
Conner nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed to get out of there."
"You know what caused it?" Ever the detective.
"Yeah, I got it under control now."
"You sure?" Conner nodded again. "Okay. Thanks for listening to me kid. I'll give you a minute. I'll be just inside the doors."
Conner thanked him as Hank patted his back and headed back inside, giving him a moment to compose himself. He took another cleansing breath.
"It's a lot, isn't it?"
Conner's head snapped to his left were the surprise voice spoke. His first instinct was to be embarrassed seeing as this new person had just witnessed him almost loose it. It was quickly replaced by anger as said person should have made themselves known. Both of those feelings vanished as he got a good look at this person and holy shit, he was hot! The man was leaning casually against the railing of the balcony, an unlit cigarette rolling between his fingers. He wore the typical tux with what used to be a tie hanging limp from his unbuttoned collar. It drew Connor's eyes to his strong neck and jaw. Stubble gave him a ruggedly handsome look and flowed seamlessly into his buzzed hair. Conner felt his breath rush out of him as a disarming gaze as blue and green met brown. Heterochromia iridium was rare but my, was it stunning.
"I beg your pardon?" He was quite proud that his voice didn't break.
Markus had not expected this. When Carl told him that they had to attend an engagement party for an old friend's sister, he knew it was going to be dull and boy was he right. The entire thing screamed filthy-stinking rich. From the location, the Chateau de la Reine was Detroit's most luxurious and obnoxiously themed hotel, to the food -who the hell had caviar at an engagement party- it was so far from his taste that he had wrinkled his nose just looking at the invites. He had stayed with Carl for as long as he could handle before making a quick getaway to the unoccupied balcony. He had sighed and ran a hand over the short hairs on his head. A hand automatically reached into his jacket pocket for a cigarette. He had quite a couple years ago but the urge still snuck up on him during stressful situations. He found that holding one in his hand while giving his ever-twitchy fingers something to do kept him from actually lighting up.
He had barely been out here for five minutes when another figure came barreling through the doors. Markus immediately recognized the signs for an oncoming anxiety attack and was prepared to step in when another figure joined him. The older gentleman cut off his view of the other, but he couldn't help but overhear their conversation.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed to get out of there."
"You know what caused it?" It seemed that these anxiety attacks were pretty common.
"Yeah, I got it under control now."
"You sure?" The first gave him some sort of silent answer. "Okay, Thanks for listening to me kid. I'll give you a minute. I'll be just inside the doors."
The man turned back inside, and Markus noticed an ear piece, a bodyguard perhaps. He got a good side view of the figure and noticed a few things immediately. The man was tall and thin, but not gangly. His suit seemed to fit him well-tailored- and his posture was perfect even when assuming he was alone. Definitely upper class then. His dark hair was slicked back, and Markus watched as he took a deep breath. He couldn't help himself. "It's a lot, isn't it?"
The man's head snapped toward him and Markus blinked. This man was gorgeous. He had light skin and dark eyes that matched his hair. High cheek bones and a narrow jaw gave him a boyish face and a cleft chin added character. Even though his face was composed, Markus watched emotions flash rapidly though his eyes and he found himself mesmerized. He really wished he had his sketch pad right now.
"I beg your pardon?"
It took Markus a moment to remember what he said. "The party? All the smoozing and ass-kissing? It's a lot, isn't it?"
"Oh," the man sent the open doors a quick glance. "I suppose it is. What made you think…"
"You looked like you were about to panic." Markus said casually and the man subtly stiffened.
Conner felt a twinge of irritation. He was not panicking. "I don't panic." He stated firmly. The man smirked, and the irritation increased.
"That's not what it seemed like to me."
The nerve. "You don't even know me."
This guy was kind of cute when he was annoyed. Markus shrugged. "I suppose that's true, but that's an easy fix." The cigarette slipped back into his pocket and he extended a hand to the man. "Markus Manfred."
The man raised a thin eyebrow and Markus' heart stuttered a little. Before things could get too awkward, a warm, thin hand grasped his. "Conner Stern."
Conner tried to ignore how calloused and warm Markus' hand was. He also ignored the feeling he got when his eyebrow raise was mimicked with a dashing smirk. "Well, well, man of the hour. What are you doing out here instead of in there with your fancy guests and lovely bride-to-be?"
Conner's brow furrowed. "I don't see how that's any concern of yours."
"Of course, it is, we're friends now," Markus teased. He was graced with an affronted look at that.
"We are not friends."
"We shook hands on it and introduced ourselves."
"That is not how you make friends."
"Why not?"
Conner rolled his eyes with a rude smile. "You can't just make friends with someone just by shaking their hand and introducing yourself."
It seemed that Markus had a conformist on his hands. "Why not?" he asked genuinely curious.
"It…It just doesn't. There's a lot more involved in being friends."
Markus tilted his head and it was not cute. "Like?"
"Like…I don't know, knowing things about each other that no one else does." This was a stupid conversation. "You can't just make friends with someone with a smile and a handshake."
Markus gave him a small smile. "Maybe it should be."
Conner blinked. He wasn't expecting that. "If that was the case, everyone in that room would be my friend." There was no mistaking the disgust hidden in his voice.
Markus raised another eyebrow at him. "Aren't they?"
That was slightly offensive. "Hell no," Conner said quickly, and Markus chuckled quietly, "though I'm sure they'd like to be."
"I couldn't imagine why they wouldn't want to be. You're so charming."
Conner couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Are you making fun of me?"
The glare was cute, like a mad little kitten. "Of course not, I'm telling the honest to God truth." Markus swore. "You're charming, handsome. Who wouldn't want to be your friend?"
Conner gave a self-deprecating scoff. "You'd be surprised."
"I want to be your friend." Conner gave him such a glorious 'bitch, please' look that Markus struggled not to laugh. "I'm serious." The face didn't change. "Fine, here. You said friends know things about each other."
Markus straightened like he was getting ready to lecture someone on the imagery hidden in one of Davinci's works. "I'm Markus Manfred. I like to paint and play piano when I'm stressed. I like to wear baggy clothes and eat junk food and hang out with my friends. I hate these parties and would rather be at a bar on a Saturday night, getting drunk and singing bad karaoke." Conner chuckled at that and Markus grinned. "There, see? Your turn."
Conner shook his head in exasperated amusement. This was like an elementary introduction and was completely and utterly stupid and he couldn't believe he was doing this. "My name is Conner Stern. I like dogs and oversized hoodies. I like to take walks and read books. And I hate these parties because everything is fake and everyone's just playing pretend. I wish I…" Conner trailed off noticing what he was about to say and the shift in mood. He took a step back and lowered his head. "Sorry."
"It's alright." Markus assured him with an understanding smile. "It seems like you need to get something off your chest." The offer was open. He could tell that there was something dark and hidden behind those innocent eyes.
Conner hesitantly shook his head. "I shouldn't…I've spoken too much already."
"That's what friends are for. Someone to rant to without feeling judged." I won't judge you, was the unspoken message and Conner seemed to grasp it as he stared almost desperately at Markus. The 'help me' was almost just as clear. Conner opened his mouth when a new voice interrupted.
"Conner." They both turned to see Conan standing in the balcony doorway. His eyes flickered between them before settling on Conner. "Chloe's looking for you."
Right, his fiancée. "I'll be there in a moment." He promised. Conan nodded and retreated to the party. Conner turned back to Markus. "I need to head back. It was a pleasure to meet you Markus." The ingrained politeness was back but he was a little surprise that he meant it.
"The pleasure was all mine, Conner. We should hang out some time." Markus grinned playfully at him. "We're friends now after all."
