CHAPTER ONE
Somewhere in the Mojave desert, stood three bozos who by some miracle managed to find a working payphone within a largely vacant sandy abyss. The sun gleamed unforgivingly. Rippling the air, as well as adding years onto the lives of any poor, unfortunate bystander within its wake. Long computerized noises exit the phone's speaker as the trio desperately wait for an answer on the other end. All were disheveled, and dirty in less of a hot, rugged, man of the wilderness type of way, but more so in a "how the hell did we get into this mess" kind of way. Truth be told, had Nick not wanted to maximize the fifty cents he already put into the non-refundable machine, he would've already given up contacting modern civilization at this point.
"Hey-" Maya's voice finally answers on the last round of rings, and Nick clears his throat before unloading the unsavory news.
"Listen, man…The bachelor party got a little out of control and, well…we lost Dylan." He absentmindedly licks his bloodied lip. Struggling to really stay awake.
"What!? But we're getting married in like four hours!"
Nick glances into the distance.
"Yeah, that's not gonna happen."
40 hours earlier
Nick's slick black Cadillac Convertible thunders down Highway 10 towards Nevada. At the wheel, Nick matches his ride with his inky side swept hair slightly flowing behind him in a chin length ponytail and matching dark attire. He wasn't smiling but by the light in his usually dull, coal colored orbs, you could tell that he was having a good time. Sitting next to him was the passenger princes- groom, Dylan Gunther-Hagen. He was handsome in the exact opposite way of Nick. With shiny dark blond hair, sunglasses covered cerulean eyes, and clothing belonging to the latest trends amongst males in their late twenties. Personality wise, he was definitely on the more charismatic side compared to Nick which in some cases made Nick a little insecure. Especially in the past when he tried to finesse his girl Max before she turned him down enough times for him to try things out with her younger twin Maya.
Five years later, and what do you know, they're about to get married in a few days and will maybe even start a family.
Behind him sits James "Iggy" Griffiths. He's a nerdy pyromaniac (hence the nickname) as tall as the guys on any professional basketball team, who always made sarcastic quips and jokes at the expense of both himself and others. Of course, this was all in good fun so long as you never stole his food, dissed his girl, dissed his cooking ability, threw away his fire starting supplies, etcetera.
Lastly, at his right is Ari Batchhelder, who was Max and Maya's weird half brother. He was a reclusive guy in his early twenties who only really left the house if he needed to hit the gym. His light brown hair was slicked back and contrasted greatly to his dark, nearly black, bushy eyebrows. His right eye had a curious scar slashed across it, which complimented the sharp, wolfish appearance that the rest of his face had. He was…alright to be around, but if the others were to be quite frank with you, they're a little scared of both him and some of the things he says sometimes. Especially considering that he has a rather limited vocabulary to boot. At best, they considered him a shy kid who lacked social awareness due to being homeschooled his entire life, and at worst, they felt as though he was capable of the unthinkable…
That being said, the guy was relatively harmless at the moment. Drumming to the beat of whatever song that played on a random road trip playlist the gang all agreed on earlier.
"DUDE THIS IS ALREADY THE BEST WEEKEND EVER!" Ari shouted through the air blowing directly in their faces.
"Ari, relax, we're still on the 10." Nick said, not once tearing his eyes off the road.
"OH, DID I SHOW YOU GUYS A PICTURE OF MY DOG?!" Ari yells, not hearing a single word that Nick just said.
"No, dude, show 'em." Dylan says as Ari eagerly pulls the pictures out of his pocket, he shows them to Dylan in the front seat with a huge, non-wolfish grin stretched upon his gaunt face.
"His name's Goblin, 'cuz y'know, his face looks like a Goblin."
"How cute…" Dylan takes the picture from his outstretched hand and looks at the little dog. He did indeed look like a Goblin. "Good for you, man."
Dylan shows the photo to Nick, and he simply nods without so much as glancing at it.
"Hey, can I see?" Iggy asks, feeling a little left out. "You guys do remember that I can see, right???"
"Yeah, yeah, here it is." Dylan passes it back to him, only for the photograph to immediately fly away from his chicken-like grip.
"GET THAT PICTURE!" Ari's happy-go-lucky demeanor suddenly switches to one of animalistic fury. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he started to foam at the mouth, his breath got heavy, until he was practically fuming. He looked so unsightly, you would've thought he was seizing had he not had his hands balled up in fists ready for contact. Dylan nervously laughed, wondering how Nick could just ignore the conflict going on right behind them.
"Okay, okay, easy there big guy." Iggy seemed relatively nonchalant aside from the slight quiver in his voice. "I'll get you your picture, alright."
He quickly unbuckles his seatbelt, and tilts almost his entire upper body over the car's caboose. After briefly struggling for a bit, his mile-long arms eventually were able to grab a considerable amount of the picture which he soon returned to its rightful owner. Ari reverts back to his original state, and smiles at the sight of his one year old doggo. Visibly shaken, Iggy presses himself as far into his side of the car as possible while buckling up.
"I still didn't get to see the picture." He mutters under his breath.
FRIDAY, 5:12 PM
To the surprises of everyone, the rest of the ride to Vegas went on without a single hitch. Granted, there were a few arguments over who's turn it was to choose the channel on the radio or there were a few side eyes and eye rolls when it seemed like Iggy needed to use the restroom whenever there wasn't a single one in sight. Not only stalling the long awaited arrival to Vegas but also risking a public indecency charge every time he left to go piss someplace on the side of the road. At a certain point, it just ended up becoming a game/inside joke amongst the group.
Another thing was that Ari would periodically go on one of his overexcited tangents whenever he saw the distance on the GPS move so much as another ten miles. This of course annoyed the others, but they just let it happen so as to not face yet another one of his terrifying meltdowns.
"Dude! I can't believe I get to party all night, and then, tomorrow...I get to sleep in! It's almost too much! And FYI, if anyone gets really drunk and craps themself, just let me know, I can have you cleaned up and partying again in under three minutes. No joke. I am a master of stool removal…" He trailed off, memorized by all the city lights taking the sun's place as the city's main source of illumination.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Dylan asks him, sliding his sunglasses onto the tippy top of his honey colored locks. Ari dramatically nods, jaw dropped, eyes wide. The Caddy rolls down the infamous strip
as the gang (including Nick) stared in awe at the hundreds of thousands of hotels, eight lane roads, multiple foot long billboards.
Nick slowly rolls up to Mandalay Bay, tossing the keys to valet as both he and the rest of the gang exit the car. They all enter the forty-three story luxury resort at the same time, epicly blocking the walkway for any passerbys. Women oogle them from afar as Nick bums a drink off of a nearby waitresses tray with the grace of a ballerina well within her prime. Awaiting the quartet is a well put together, albeit quite nondescript, man standing behind the front desk.
"Welcome to the Mandalay Bay." He recites monotonously. "May I have a name for the reservation."
"Checking in under the name Walker, Nick." The man types the name into the computer.
"Yes, we have you down for a one night stay in the economy suite-" Iggy glances down at the nondescript man's name tag which reads as the simplest, most predictable name ever for someone like this: "Norman."
"Hold it right there…Norman." Iggy rests a hand atop Dylan's shoulder for greater emphasis on his next few words. "This is my best friend from childhood, Dylan Gunther-Hagen. In two days, he is to marry a woman of great beauty and strong teeth, do you understand? A woman of gigantic
bosoms who will give him many, many sons…"
Norman looks thoroughly perplexed after hearing this random-ass declaration, Ari giggles.
"My two other childhood friends have traveled great distances, across many deserts, to be here. This isn't a night in a hotel for us, Norman: this is a family reunion. Perhaps you can cut us some slack and have mercy on our poor souls." Iggy wipes a fake tear away from his eye, lightly nudging the others to do the same. Ari discretely shoves him back, hard, momentarily taking Iggy's breath away.
"I'm afraid all of the deluxe rooms are taken, sir." Norman returns back to his boring, professional disposition. "However, the Dean Martin suite is available, but I'd have to ask my-"
"Dean-O will be fine." Iggy rasps out, clutching his side. "Send up a case of Cristal, two bottles of Patron, four ahi sandwiches, and a crate of skinless mangos."
"Anything else I can get for you?" Norman looks at the rest of the guys, all of whom were much too stunned to speak.
"Oh, and Norman, have Jean-Marie cook up a dozen of those duck skewers I like so well. He knows the ones."
"Alrighty then, how would you like to pay?" Norman asks, copying down all of Iggy's insane requests before he forgot about them. Clearly he was used to dealing with people like Iggy, because otherwise he would've had an aneurism the moment Iggy opened his mouth.
"American Express." Iggy says slyly as Norman looks up to accept the card. Iggy turns to Nick.
"Dude, give him your AmEx." He whispers to him.
"What?"
"Don't worry, I'll pay you back later." Nick sends him a death glare. "The room is under your name after all."
Nick sighs and forks over the card, as if attaching his name onto a hotel reservation was some kind of a binding contract.
"You better pay me back big time after this."
The guys enter the hotel room, in absolute awe of the suites multiple bedrooms, gorgeous lounge area, two flat screen TV's, and fully stocked bar.
"Wow, this is bigger than my entire house!" Ari exclaims as Iggy lacksidasically walks past him.
"C'mon, get dressed ladies. We're wheels, up in ten." Iggy says before both Ari and Dylan run to claim the better presenting bedrooms, leaving Nick just standing alone. Eyeballing other parts of the suite.
"I'm so not getting paid back." He mumbles to himself.
Iggy enters his bedroom, drops his baggage onto his King sized bed, and starts to change into more appropriate Vegas attire, when all of a sudden, his phone rings. The caller was unknown but not flagged as a scammer or telemarketer, so he takes the call.
"James speaking."
He listens to the person on the other end and begins to feel impending doom replace his once relaxed atmosphere.
"He's in Vegas?! You're kidding me!"
He winces upon realizing that they were in fact, not kidding him.
"All right, I'll get it. All right. All right-!" He screams until he hears footsteps walking past his door. He tenses up when the footsteps seem to briefly stop nearby, until they continue, none the wiser. "I said alright, dude! How many more times do you want me to say 'alright'?"
The person on the other end let's Iggy know some more troubling things before finally hanging up on him.
"Jesus…"
Meanwhile, Dylan and Ari are standing side by side one another. Brushing their teeth in tandem.
"So, you ready for Sunday?" Ari asks after spitting out some mint toothpaste.
"Yeah, I thought I'd be nervous, but I'm actually just really psyched." Ari nods, impressed.
"Does our dad still hate you?"
"Yep."
"Any closer to figuring out why? I personally think you're a pretty nice guy." Dylan smiles.
"Well thanks for that, but if you were in his shoes you wouldn't be too keen either. I mean, I'm a model whose looks may or may not dry up with age. Not to mention how already unsteady my income can be from time to time." Dylan laughs somewhat bashfully as he rakes a hand through his hair. "Also, I'm banging his daughter. I'm not sure you ever get past that."
Ari chuckles, splashing his face with some water before leaving the bathroom.
Once everyone's cleaned up, dressed in their finest black tie attire with some liquid courage in their systems, the crew embarks on a trip to the Mandalay Bay Rooftop. Iggy opens the steel door, and walks inside as the rest follow him in. Dylan carries in a bottle of Patron and four bougie hotel glasses, Nick sticks a wooden block between the door and the frame in order to keep the door from shutting them out, and Ari is just his awestruck self once again.
"Thi's 's sogreat! I luvya goiys!!!" Ari slurs, a little bit hammered.
"How are you already wasted?" Iggy asks, going over to the table where Dylan is refilling the glasses. He snatches the first glass Dylan fills fifteen percent of the way up and downs it in a singular gulp. Relishing the burn afterwards. "You've only had two shots, man."
"F'rst tyme *hic* drinking *hic* alco'hol *hic*"
"Ah, yeah that makes sense." Then again, it also didn't. I mean Ari was a big guy after all. People his size could usually handle at least five shots so two should be nothing. Scientifically speaking of course.
"No more drinks for him," Dylan chimes in, protectively holding the glasses to himself as Ari drunkenly swings his swole arms towards them. "The last thing I want to do is alcohol poison my future brother in law."
"Oi, lighten up, Dyl. It's your bachelor's party for god sakes."
"Dylan's right." Nick breaks out of his normal, nonchalant silence. Agreeing with Dylan of all people. "It could ruin our chances with the twins as well as your chances with Ella if we let things get too out of hand. Plus, you never know, Ari might have another 'freak out'."
"HEY! I HER' THA Y'KNOW!" Ari, hiccups some more while shaking a fist at no one in particular.
"You might actually have a good point there." Iggy side eyes Ari's wobbling figure, with a flared nostril face of disgust.
"Hey, hav' I sh'wn you g'ys a pic'ure of mah dawg?" Ari looks at them with glassy eyes, rasping out that singular sentence with what seemed like great effort.
"Yes, we saw your dog." Dylan grabs his arm and guides him over to a seat at one of the tables. "Now, let's get you into a seat before you end up somehow toppling off the roof."
"Here's a little toast to Maya, the coolest, kindest, most beautiful woman I've ever met. I can't believe she let me come this weekend -- much less agreed to spend the rest of her life with me. I think both will prove to be massive errors of judgment on her part." Dylan says as he proudly raises his glass to the sky. The others chuckle.
"And to being here, with my best buddies in the world. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."
"Aweeeeeeeeeeeee." The others say, touched. They all loudly clink their glasses to Dylans' as they slap him on the back with wide grins stretched wide across their faces.
"That being said, let's not party too hard. Alright? I'm still getting married in 36 hours after all."
"Oh, alrightttttt."
"We'll be good."
"Tot'ally du-dude."
To be continued….