The alarm did not go off. Daine had turned it off after it woke him up for the time at 4 AM. He was thinking about some things. He did not want to be disturbed. When Daine realized what time it was, the sun was already high in the sky. It was making weird shapes on his bed with the shadows. The sheets on his bed were all tangled up from the party the night before.. Maybe it was from when he decided to stop answering Babes calls. She had called him seventeen times. He had counted them.
Daine threw some clothes into a bag. He did not care what they were. He had clothes and clothes he wore to the gym all mixed up together. Nothing really mattered at this point. His apartment still smelled like vodka and bad decisions. All of these decisions were made by Daine in the last twenty-four hours.
The elevator ride down from his apartment was like going in time. Daine had to go down twenty-eight floors. Each floor was like letting go of something.
The limousine was waiting for him. It was already running. There were bodyguards standing next to it. They were like service agents or something. Daine knew the driver. His name was Marcus. Marcus had driven Daine to his prom year. Marcus knew about Babe. He knew about the vodka.. Marcus did not say anything. That is what he was supposed to do.
The drive through Los Angeles was very smooth. Marcus took some roads and they did not get stuck in traffic. They went through some intersections that they should not have been able to go. It was like the police were looking the way. Being rich has its advantages.
Daine looked at his phone. Babe's picture was still on it. She was laughing at something Daine had said. Daine had loved her.. That was, in the past now. Daine looked at their messages one time. He saw how she went from being confused to hurt to angry to desperate. Then she just gave up. That was smart of her. Daine deleted their conversation.
When they got to LAX, Daine's new life was waiting for him. There were a lot of journalists standing there with cameras.. The bodyguards made a path for Daine to walk through and nobody bothered him. Daine did not say anything to the journalists. He did not take any pictures with them. The private terminal was very quiet. Daine heard the sound of footsteps. He smelled some expensive cologne.
The Chief was standing there. He was shorter than Daine remembered. He had a mustache that looked like it belonged in a movie.. He had a firm handshake and sharp eyes. When he told Daine to make his dad proud Daine knew that he was not just talking. He was giving Daine an order.
Daine said he would try. He meant it.
The jet was getting ready to take off. Daine looked out the window. Watched as Los Angeles got smaller and smaller. Then it disappeared. That was good.
Daine awakened from his slumber on the comfortable Mercedes settee, only remembering the departure and farewells to the Chief. He suspected he was anesthetized on the journey, a faint dizziness still enduring in his head.
The car was driving through a cemetery, disguised with many weeping trees and the vibrant sounds of bats. One even rested on the front window. Daine searched for his stuff. He checked his pants, now changed to a pair of jeans, but his phone and wallet were nowhere to be found, nor his luggage. He questioned the driver. A masked man with a slender body. He shouted multiple times, but the driver wouldn't answer.
The car entered the gates of a massive castle. The atmosphere was quiet, heavy. The large presence of bats welcoming them created an eerie suspense. Suddenly, one of them lunged at the car.