I was sitting alone in the corner of the room, a half empty bottle of beer on the table alongside my night's winnings. By this point in the evening I was so drunk that I had no hope of winning any card game, even if it was solitaire, yet reckless enough to bet everything from my shirt to my shoes on the outcome. The people here would usually take advantage of someone in my state, but they were fully aware that being drunk didn't prevent me from throwing a punch or shattering a glass and unsurprisingly there aren't many bastards who would happily take being half-blinded, even for twenty-five grand.

"Mind if I sit down?" A ridiculous Chelsea accent asked.

I grunted in reply, not looking up as I rolled my next cigarette.

"I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, to be honest I was only looking for girls," He said, trying to catch my eye. The statement was quickly followed by a high pitched, nervous laugh.

"My name is James."

I looked up, noticing that he had held out his hand across the table to me, but I didn't shake it. I looked him over: he was wearing an expensive jacket, the top button of his shirt was undone, his hair had a stupid quiff at the front and he was wearing an Eton tie. This annoyed me, the man looked about the same age as me and yet here he was still trying to use the school he went to as a way to get connections. I couldn't exactly judge him seeing as I had gone to the same posh prick school but at least I'd done something with my life afterwards. Well I had until now. I'm not just some little fucker whose only accomplishment is that his parents paid for his education, which he's now wasting in sordid bars and back-alley gambling rooms. Well, I wasn't.

I sighed, resigned to the fact that this pathetic man was now my equal.

"Sebastian." I muttered abruptly.

"You know what, I think I recognise you. You were on the rowing team weren't you? At uh…" He motioned down at his tie with a drunken smirk, mumbling something into his whiskey glass. A chatty drunk then, no wonder he couldn't find a woman.

"Can you match this?" He said suddenly, pulling three large stacks of notes from his pockets.

Although I tried to not react, my eyes did widen in surprise.

"Well," He drawled, "How else do you expect to attract an audience?"

He was right. Heads were already turning towards us from across the bar. Like hyenas, as though they could smell the money.

"Got to get the girls somehow," James sniggered.

I pocketed the unlit cigarette, and began dealing the cards.