Creative Writing

10 pm, Brooklyn, the tall glass building. Specifically the penthouse.

“So tell me Mark, what do you do for a living?”Mark was not interested in telling people what he did. In fact, he didn’t want to be where he was right now. However, Mark thought it would be impolite not to reply.  “I help people make problems go away.” Mark’s reply was in his usual clipped tone. A nerve on his chiseled jaw was twitching. A sign that he was annoyed and finding it hard to keep his cool. His dark eyes spoke volumes but only those who knew him really well could read what his eyes were saying. Mark was the master of disguise but he had not yet mastered the art of subtlety in his tone when asked about his profession.

Mark wished he could just blurt out that he was a contract killer, a hit man, but he didn’t think this would go down too well at this elite social gathering. Not really Mark’s usual scene, but needs must. The place was filled with beautiful people. These people had spent thousands on perfecting their exteriors. They had also probably spent thousands to buy themselves a place at such events – rubbing shoulders with the wealthy and powerful.

The hall was filled with expensive champagne and smoke. Smoke from cigars and cigarettes and other substances. The smell of the combination of smoke, alcohol and other substances made Mark’s throat feel raw. His nose was burning and his eye was twitching.  There were all sorts of paraphernalia strewn across the deep cream carpet and glossy furniture. The lights were  dimmed in certain parts of the room so it made it difficult to see exactly what was going on but Mark was used to working in the dark and had he had developed a skill of moving round a room unnoticed, like a light breeze skipping between branches and leaves.

A petite blonde with perfectly set long hair slunk up next to Mark.  “So, are you some kind of shrink?  Her voice tinkled like bells.  It was somehow unreal, a bit like a cartoon character. She looked as though she had walked off the cover of Vogue magazine. Her body perfectly sculpted. Mark didn’t think she worked out. He assumed her perfection was down to expensive surgery. Her lips a perfect pout, painted in a deep red and not one line or wrinkle on her face. Not even when she attempted to express emotion.

The blonde waited patiently for Mark’s reply. She was perched on the edge of her seat examining her perfectly manicured nails that were painted the same colour as her lips. “You could say that” Mark replied matter of factually.

Mark appreciated beauty, to be more precise beautiful women. This petite blonde bombshell oozed perfection and was every mans fantasy. She wore a shimmering black evening gown and a diamond encrusted necklace around her neck with matching ring and earrings. Mark didn’t have time for relationships but was open to one night stands. Things were far less complicated this way.

His life was not his and he had nothing to give. He had made the mistake of falling in love once but the relationship had ended before it had even started. He was not prepared to put the love of his life at risk. Mark had cut all ties with the people he cared about and loved many years ago.

The venue began to feel over crowded as more groups of beautiful people arrived. Mark smirked to himself as a thought crossed his mind, the room was full of plastic people who had all gone under the knife.

Mark was lost in his thoughts when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, this made his heart beat immediately shoot up, he knew what the buzzing was for and he was ready for it. Mark excused himself and headed toward the exit with confidence.