Eric was the healthy young age of sixteen. That meant a few things. One, he could drive a car. Probably the worst mistake of the modern age, to let a young man sit in the driver's seat of a massive metal horse that could trample over a person with little notice. Secondly, he desperately wanted those things he couldn't have. Eric thought his body a temple, so that ruled out drugs and alcohol. That left one sin, really.
There were no shortage of rumours about Club Gambit. 'Legend' said it hid in some rundown part of the city, hiding in plain sight within the slums of poverty. Maybe it was secretly a money laundering scheme, when it would stay away from the rest of the pretentious upper-end clubbing scenes. But its remoteness was what made it like a forbidden fruit, in some ways.
That, and the tales of their women. Yeah, so Eric liked girls. Sue him.
Club Gambit wasn't in the nicest place in the world, so Eric opted to take a cab instead of his sports car. Bringing a credit card to this establishment would probably land him in trouble – it would classify him as a minor in a heartbeat. So instead Eric brought a fat wallet for the occasion, all tucked right next to his fake ID.
Eric spent half the day, right after a good workout, figuring out the right clothes to wear. He could make anything look good, but he wanted to look really good. He thought he managed it, wearing a delicate balance of understated but classy. Really, it meant ditching the suit jacket for a vest, but half of wearing things right was in the cut and fit.
His vest, pants, and shoes were a polished black, and his dress shirt was a dull violet, the top two buttons undone. His only piece of jewelry was a silver watch on his left wrist. He would say nothing about it, but Eric also spent some time with makeup to make himself look just a few years older. Not that he needed it, but every bit helped.
The most important thing, however, was confidence. He walked into Club Gambit like he belonged there his whole life. Once he made it in, he took a minute to appreciate and assess his surroundings. The first hurdle was over.
There were no shortage of rumours about Club Gambit. 'Legend' said it hid in some rundown part of the city, hiding in plain sight within the slums of poverty. Maybe it was secretly a money laundering scheme, when it would stay away from the rest of the pretentious upper-end clubbing scenes. But its remoteness was what made it like a forbidden fruit, in some ways.
That, and the tales of their women. Yeah, so Eric liked girls. Sue him.
Club Gambit wasn't in the nicest place in the world, so Eric opted to take a cab instead of his sports car. Bringing a credit card to this establishment would probably land him in trouble – it would classify him as a minor in a heartbeat. So instead Eric brought a fat wallet for the occasion, all tucked right next to his fake ID.
Eric spent half the day, right after a good workout, figuring out the right clothes to wear. He could make anything look good, but he wanted to look really good. He thought he managed it, wearing a delicate balance of understated but classy. Really, it meant ditching the suit jacket for a vest, but half of wearing things right was in the cut and fit.
His vest, pants, and shoes were a polished black, and his dress shirt was a dull violet, the top two buttons undone. His only piece of jewelry was a silver watch on his left wrist. He would say nothing about it, but Eric also spent some time with makeup to make himself look just a few years older. Not that he needed it, but every bit helped.
The most important thing, however, was confidence. He walked into Club Gambit like he belonged there his whole life. Once he made it in, he took a minute to appreciate and assess his surroundings. The first hurdle was over.
