[b]The Coffee Pot[/b] 

Having enough time in the coffee shop mulling over a surprisingly decent expresso Sasha succumbed to the boredom and slumped down his chair; subconsciously he hoped someone would have already forced him to reveal his true personage, so he then could flaunt his superiority over the assembled peasants. Alas it seemed these dullards were fooled by his clever guise, perhaps he was playing Jocelyn a little too well. With a little more charisma Sas… err Jocelyn would have these fools kissing the ground his perfectly pedicured feet walked on.  He was not irked at the lack of attention, no sir, not one bit. 

His right hand traced the luxurious Epi leather of his Neo Belaia clutch, while the lavish Louis Vuitton bag  was a reminder of his status it was also his cheat bag. A smug smirk enveloped his face, those sycophants back at the penthouse should have not taken his word that he would play fair. At first he considered not smuggling some provisions with him, but then again God made temptation so alluring. His new strategy was to lay-low (as he doubted his toadies would check up on him in any notable capacity) and he would win this idiotic challenge; cheating would technically be going against the spirit of the whole shebang, but if he was not caught was it cheating?   

His burner phone pinged notifying that his UberLUX driver was waiting on him outside. He placed some crumpled bills on the table and made his way outside.  A cold wind blew as he entered the high-end luxury sedan. Walking was over-rated.

[b] The Old Starboard [/b] 


Sasha rolled his eyes as the driver prattled incessantly about his brood of brats.  The state of the service industry in this city was a joke and so was the fact that this walrus mustached moron procreated.  Worse yet was that the imbecile droned on about the local gay scene when Sasha inquired about bars. Why the man thought that Sasha would want to know that information was beyond him.  Flustered he twisted his long hair in his fingers. Stupid old fool, what did he know. Nothing that is what.  Did the simpleton not realize that Sasha was one of the city’s most eligible bachelors and not a homosexual…he just veered off the proverbial path from time to time which is a completely normal heterosexual thing to do. Pervert was probably hitting on him or something. Eck…gross. He suppressed a gag as the car pulled up to The Old Starboard.  Despite his disgust with the peon he had the twit walk around the car and open the door for him.  Sasha scoffed at the driver as the imp had the audacity to tell him to have a “good day” and to “stay safe”.   How presumptuous. 

As Sasha made his way to the bar he attempted to channel the Jocelyn persona, but was overcome by an urge to partake in a particularly naughty vice. After ordering a Scotch…J&B on the rocks (a personal favorite) he made his way to the bathroom.  On his way there he wrinkled his nose in disgust as this establishment reeked from lack of ambition as well as well as class, culture, taste, and intelligence. He thought he recognized one of the rubes from the coffee house as well, which would be all too fitting if true.  Once inside the bathroom he made sure he was truly alone before reaching inside his clutch for a small mirror, a hundred dollar bill, a razor blade, and a clear bag containing a gram of cocaine.  After snorting a few lines he shuts his eyes and feels comforted by his racing heart; tears stream down his face.  For a moment he feels blissfully in tune with universe before crashing back down to earth. Flushing the razor blade and the empty bag he reverently places the other items back in his clutch.  Sasha dries his tears and wipes the slight residue of cocaine off his lips with a handkerchief.  Ensuring his nostrils are not bleeding he bounds his way back to the bar an extra pep in his step per say.