3

"Since you want to play 21 questions. Tell me about yourself."

A smile spreads

across Kristoff's face.

"My lifestyle is quite lavish, but with me. What you see is what you get. I have nothing to hide." Kristoff's smile wavered a bit, which Chance didn't miss.

"You can call me Kristoff, Kris or even daddy, whichever you like. I'm comfortable with either."

Chance leant away, clearly not comfortable with any of it.

"You are bullsh*tting, I can tell by the way your eye twitched and your smile dropped a bit."

"Observant. But fine, I want it all. The money, the fame, the bitches. I didn't want to appear arrogant, but you forced my hand."

"Still not enough." Chance said.

"I have always thought I was a ladies' man until I saw you. I don't know if it is your eyes, or the balls you have in coming here. I'm certain you have big balls." Kristoff placed a hand on top of Chance's.

Chance pulled back with a disgusted look on his face.

"Look man, I don't know what games you or playing. If this is some sick joke of you rich folks, I don't want any part of it."

"A joke, no. Us 'rich folk' would rather spend our time making more money or thinking of ways to make money."

"What do you want from me? Kristoff."

"What we are doing now, talking."

Chance tapped the rim of his glass. His overactive and over imaginative mind ran a mile per hour, thinking of how to get out of this situation.

"Listen, I don't want any problems." Kristoff gave a laugh. "problems? What problems?''

Again, Chance tapped his glass. "I think this is my time to leave, please. Enjoy this rest of your evening.'' Chance down the rest of his drink and slammed it down on the table.

''Leaving so when? We have only just started our conversation. No, no. I want to get to know you more, Chance. So please, let's have a seat.''

Chance raised a brow. He knew he had no choice but to stay with the way the security moved a step towards the door.

"Tell you what. Join me on finishing a bottle, and I'll let you in on a secret.''

Chance closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I really have to go. It was nice meeting you. Nice party, goodbye.''

Before he could turn away, Kristoff grabbed a hold of his hand.

"Maybe I came off too strong, or even played my cards wrong, but just finish this bottle with me. It's not very often I speak with people that are...'' Kristoff paused, not knowing how to finish.

''Poor? Low class?''

"No, no. That is not what I was about to say.'' But really, Kristoff couldn't explain it. There was something about Chance that truly made him truly intrigued.

Maybe just like people said, it's the vibes. And Chance has that positive energy. It made Kristoff feel as if he could tell him all his secrets, all his fears. Everything. Either that, or he was just too infatuated and wanted to take Chance to bed, even though he was being a hard ass about it.

Chance checked his cheap white Casio watch, that glowed in the dark which he stole from a small convenient store. He had been talking to Kristoff for forty-five minutes now and they still hadn't started serving the food as yet.

''Do you have somewhere else to be? Or maybe you find me boring?'' Kristoff touched Chance's elbow, causing him to jump a bit.

''Oh, what were you saying?''

"Nothing, but you seem distracted.''

Before Chance could reply, a girl with a brunette pixie cut hairstyle came over. 

She gave Chance a once over, then turned her full attention to Kristoff.

"Krissy, darling. Why don't you come over to our seat?''

"Nah, I want to get to know my new friend better.'' Kristoff placed a hand on Chance's knee, which he pushed it off, then closed his legs.

Again, the female gave Chance a look. "Well, at least sit at our table, then. I'm sure you will be tired of.'' She didn't finish but gestured towards Chance.

"Sorry, but like I said, I would rather stay here with my friend.''

''Do you at least have a table?'' She turned to Chance, who flat out ignored her.

''Excuse me, I'm talking to you. Can you talk?''

''Sorry, but I don't waste my time on high class wh*res.’’

She made a huffing sound, then walked away.

''I hate that bi... I swear, most of these people wouldn't be my friend if I wasn't rich.''

"But isn't that the point? You all have these fake people around you. That doesn't give a rat's ass what how you really feel, just to feel validated and fill some form of void.'' Chance remarked.

Kristoff gave a laugh. ''I don't need any form of validation-''

Chance cut him off by saying. ''But yet, you crave their opinions and keep them around to feed your ego and make yourself feel good.''

Kristoff scoffed. He hated when people spoke as if they knew him, even if they were right.

"I should go.'' Chance pointed towards the door.

''You're not staying for dinner? I'm sure that you must be hungry, even though you have no table. I can make room for one more.''

"I'll be fine.''

"No, now what kind of friend would I be if it let you leave hungry?''

"Friend?'' Chance repeated.

Kristoff gave him a half smile, ''yes. I don't mind paying a little extra.''

''See now, you claim to hate people that only stuck by you because of your money. But yet you sling it around like nothing.''

"Well, for me. Money is not a problem, as we speak, I just made three million. Could be more, nothing less.''

"And what if one day your business fails, what if you suddenly, inexplicable lose all your money? Then what? Will all these people be here for you? Stop trying to buy people, it only attracts the wrong kind of friends.''

Kristoff opened his mouth to speak, but he was lost for words. It was the first time anyone has ever spoke to him so sternly, or even tried to show him reasoning. Yet alone didn't care about his money.

"See, you are the type of person who I need around me. You don't pretend and I know that you will keep me in check.''

"I am not good for your image and I'm not willing to change in any way.'' Chance told him.

Kristoff paused to think about his words. Did he mean change about his way of living? Or about trying a male for the first time?

"You don't have to. There is no rush. Trust me.'' Kristoff winked.