[Eric]

Staring at myself in the mirror, I hardly recognize the man staring back at me. He is wearing a Ralph Lauren suit, tailor made, with a checkered tie. Normally, I'm wearing my pajamas until 1p.m, and for casting shoots, I sometimes put on a polo.

In this, I look like a different man. I am a professional. When I step outside, I can't resist the urge to knock on Anela's door. Nobody answers, but the lights are on underneath the door frame. Pressing my ear to the door, I can hear chatter. A young male voice arguing with her.

I knock again louder, and his voice quiet's. Anela opens the door. I'm used to her being dressed up, but today her getup is excessive. She's wearing a wedding dress. Silver makeup lines her face. If I didn't know her so well, I would think she was trying to make her face look like someone else's. She looks me up and down.

"Nice, where are you going tonight? Hot date?"

"No," I say. "I could ask you the same."

"Just a birthday of a friend," she says with a shrug.

"In a wedding dress?" I question her

"It's a costume theme. I just thought this would be funny. Do you want to come in? I'm still getting ready."

Her eyes glitter while she speaks.

"I can only stay for a minute," I say, suspicious. I know there was someone else in here. I had heard them.

Inside, the apartment smells of fresh apricots. I notice a pie on the counter, still being packed with fruit. The rest of the apartment is immaculately clean. There is no sign of anyone else.

"Are you alone?" I ask her. I'm testing her, wanting to see if she would lie to me.

Anela disappears down the hallway, towards her bathroom. Her voice floats from afar.

"Of course I'm alone. So, you didn't answer me -hot date tonight?"

My eyes flash from the pie on the table, to her figure down the hall. There could only be one explanation behind the voice in the apartment, and one reason as to why 'she' is making a pie while simultaneously getting ready for a 'party.' There's someone else here. A boyfriend, probably.

I don't answer her question. Her voice comes floating from the hall, repeating her question.

"Why don't you just tell me the truth," I called. Her head pops out of the doorframe. I avoid eye contact. If I looked into her eyes, than I wouldn't be able to confront her.

"What are you talking about?" she questions me.

"Just tell me the truth about him," I sigh. "I know you aren't pregnant. I know you don't like me. At least don't lie to my face."

Before she can respond, I run out the door. She clearly didn't care about me. Not when I could hve been the father of her child, and not after I have done everything out of kindness for her.

In the taxi, I only have ten minutes to calm my frazzled nerves before arriving at the Ironworks. I felt that taking a taxi was much smarter than my car, so no one could associate the car with my presence. Besides, my old car didn't match me now. Now, I looked rich and successful. Not that Anela had noticed.

I push her out of my mind, focusing on the task at hand. There is no way to know what I could be walking into. From what Fabian left for me, It's just a normal wedding, but I know that somehow this wedding is significant. In some way, it serves the purpose of the rebellion.

The taxi driver looks back at me.

"Mister, can you get out already."

I jumped, not realizing that we had arrived.

"Sorry," I stammered, throwing him an extra ten before exting the cab. He peels away, and I'm left staring up at the intimidating doors of the Ironworks. Now my only task is to find the patio. Outside, in my suit, the chill is unbearable. A stream of people head to the open doors. Every one of them is glamorous. Probably more glamorous than anyone I've ever been in close vicinity too. Even though I'm dressed like them, and look like them, I feel completely out of place.

The ironworks is one of the most popular wedding venues that is located downtown. The only comparable venue are the mountain resorts, but for something urban, the Ironworks is everyone's first choice. A little seed of excitement sprouts within me. This lifestyle, these people, make me feel like a successful actor.

Circling around the historic brick building, I find a serene patio located in the back. Strings of light decorate it. A wrought iron fence blocks people from the streets from entering, but Fabian and Lana are waiting for me inside. They open it, and quickly usher me in. They are dressed to their teeth, too. Fabian wears a shining blue suit, and Lana matches him in a sequined blue v-line dress. I realize with a start that it isn't sequin, but diamonds she is wearing.

"Today, you are not Eric," says Fabian, cutting to the chase. The man wastes no time on hello's. "You are Caden, my son. I am Adam Putter, and this is my wife, Rachel. We've been setting this up for a long time. You've been away at college, but you are now a graduate. With a degree in psychology. Don't mess this up."

"Don't mess this up?" I stutter. "I'm nothing like these people. What do I do?"

"The wedding of the Western Alliance's President's son is today. His other son is a recent college graduate. Your job is to befriend him. We will handle the president and his wife, who we have ins with. The son, though, is young, and more likely to reveal secrets. Become friends with him. That's your only job."

That I can handle. College was fun, and I still feel the same I did when I first graduated. In my school, I was in the acting club, played rugby, and joined a frat.

"What's he like? Does he play football or basketball? Is he in a frat or anything that could be useful?"

"No," said Fabian. "I've actually never seen the kid smile. He made nationals for his college debate team."

My former confidence crumbled. I knew nothing about debate club, or taking college seriously.

"Any other questions? We have to get going," said Lana, looking into the glowing room.

"We'll point him out to you," said Fabian. "Otherwise enjoy the food and wine. Don't overdrink."

I shake my head. I don't have any more questions. Whatever chaos is about to unfold, I might as well get it over with. They begin walking towards the door. When they swing it open, I am breathless.

So this is high society.

The scene before me looks like something from a movie. A golden spiral staircase leads up to the reception hall. We are in the lobby, where everyone enjoys a cocktail. Every cocktail is different. Some spew fire, or smoke, and others have strange decor sticking out of them. One even might be a peacock feather. Everyone's outfit is exceptional to the minute details. One woman is dressed in a velvety green dress, and her skin is covered in silver stencil. Someone took the time to draw silver flowers all over her body.

The two accompanying me act casual. They saunter up to the bar. I can tell they've done events like these before. I, on the other hand, am intimidated. Taking a deep breath, I fall into the role they gave him. I am Caden, son of the wealthy Mr. and Mrs. Putter. We belong here. I am going to become friends with the Western Alliance's son.

"A cosmo, please," Lana orders.

"Whiskey on the rocks," says Fabian, "the best you have."

The bartender nods, than looks at me expectantly.

"Can I do a strawberry daiquiri please? Or do you not have blenders."

The bartender gives me a weird look.

"Our son is so funny," says Lana, laughing. The bartender smiles. Guess that means I'm not getting the strawberry daiquiri.

"Yeah, I'll take a vodka tonic," I grumble. The bartender nods and begins to work.

With our drinks in hand, I follow my 'parents' around as they mingle. It's obvious they are used to this. Lying comes naturally to them. The life they've told everyone they have has truly become their life. It is more their reality than their true identities.

They are the Putter's. The wife is the manager of an online beauty brand, with representatives ranging from the Kardashians to Duchess Meghan. The brand is one of the most popular in America and Europe for their famous stay-on lipgloss. The husband started out as a real estate agent, then became a broker, and finally was the man trusted by every member of high-society for their real estate needs. I am their son, ready to move into my families legacy as a recent graduate with high expectations.

I have no idea how they set up their identities, or how real they are, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't impressed.

"Mrs. Harley!" exclaims Mrs. Putter, wrapping her gloved hands around an elderly woman. "You must meet my son!"

The old woman is head to toe in a light pink velvet outfit that screams 'i'm old but rich as shit.' It's one of those old fashion sets that goes past her knees and covers her neck and arms in entirety. Not a single shred of skin except for her face is showing. She is wrinkled, and wears a poofy black hat with flowers that is askew on her hand. I really don't want to talk to her, but I approach her anyways wearing a charming smile.

I shake her hand warmly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Do you remember, darling? This is the President's mother. The wonderful woman I was talking about."

"Of course I remember," I say. "I have heard great things about the sacrifices and hard-work you've put into building your family. You are an amazing woman."

The woman smiles ear-to-ear.

"Thank you. It's finally nice to meet you, too! You're always away at college, even during the holidays. That is truly commendable."

"Mrs. Harley, I know we are celebrating your grandson today, but I wanted to update you on that house in Aspen..."

Leading the woman away, back towards the bar, I look at Lana who is nodding her head pointedly. I follow her gesture towards the back of the room, where a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy is sitting in a loveseat with a drink. It looks like rum. The boy seems angry, and even though a woman is talking to him in the seat over, he doesn't even glance her way. The girl is young and brunette, with glowy green eyes. She doesn't stop talking once. Even from across the room, I can see her mouth move endlessly.

"That's the son?" I ask. She nods.

"He is the family reject. Which I think makes him... easy to get secrets from."

"Wouldn't it be easier for a woman to get secrets from him?" I ask. I can't imagine him spilling his guts to me.

"Well, I can't ruin my reputation being seen going after such a young boy. People would not trust me and grow suspicious. Besides, I don't think being a woman would help me in this case."

"Why not, he doesn't like older blondes?"

Lana scowled, angry at the word 'old' being associated with her.

"No, actually. He doesn't like women."

Realization hits me. This job. I'm an actor, and I'm desperate, which means that they can make me do anything. I hadn't realized it before, but now I see it clearly. I am not just a spy. I am going to have to seduce this boy and steal his secrets from him. I have to make him fall in love with me.

"Are you serious?" I ask her.

"Yes. With our luck, you may be able to convince him to join our force, too, and become a spy."

"I didn't sign up for this."

"Remember how much we are paying you," she says.

That is something i haven't forgotten, and don't plan on giving up on. Once the job is done, I can walk away a rich man. I'll never have to act again. I can retire in Cancun.

Taking a step forward, I prepare myself for what I am going to say. Initially, I was planning on befriending him, and the character was going to act more like a nonchalant 'frat' boy. After seeing him, now I realize I will have to take a different approach. I'm going to have to be mysterious and captivating. I have to steal his heart, and all his secrets.