As Castiel walked through the entrance he was greeted by several staff members of the venue. From a simple glance around, it was easy to conclude that this event was your stereotypical wealthy gathering. Many sipped from chilled champagne glasses, while old men laughed at each other's dry jokes. People across the rooms dressed in expensive brands; some even wore articles of clothing from HEI Design Company, the company Castiel worked for. Together this array of people in essence, vaguely resembled Raphael's School of Athens.
Castiel's Boss often left him without instructions, simply placing trust in his subordinate's abilities and nothing else. He would like to complain sometime soon, saying how he would get his job done faster if he would know the details from the start. In Castiel's heart, he silently cursed at his Boss.
Baaiman nudged the shorter man beside him, "why don't you head on over to the restroom?"
The boy could smell the smoky residue left from the cigarette as Baaiman leaned over. He narrowed his eyes out of distaste for the scent.
"It's a pain, I know. Spontaneity is probably the Boss' greatest issue," Baaiman said, sensing the same mild hostility young people often exude.
"I might take a while, are you familiar with anyone here?"
Baaiman nodded, "oh yeah, I've met many of these people," he scoffed. "I was there before all their accumulated wealth, and not a single penny was spared to an old friend of theirs… As if I wasn't the one driving them around the city back then."
"Alright, thank you," Castiel interjected, not planning to waste any more time listening to an old man's ramblings. He turned away to follow the glossy checkered tile floor in the direction of the restroom. To Baaiman's social nature, Castiel felt obligated to have a mild sense of gratitude.
The restrooms were secluded behind a sharp corner which divided them from the rest of the building. The wall served as an insulator of sound, muffling the mindless chatter of the main area. It was elegantly designed. The lights were slightly dimmer than the outside, giving it an enclosed feeling. The mirrors were backlit, providing a sufficiently flattering lighting when looked into. The black stall doors were tall and sleek, Castiel took a great liking towards how they were parallel to the counters. The shapes in this restroom were angular, giving them a sleek look. Soft jazz hummed in the background, effectively creating the atmosphere for contemplation. This artistically designed room asked for every detail to be paid attention to, even the subtle almost barely visible marble patterns on the walls.
He entered one of the stalls and hung his cherished coat on the metal hook. Even the hook's design had been taken into consideration, it held the coat securely like it was offering a sword to nobility. Under his coat he had on a simple black turtleneck, which he was glad to remove because of its repulsively tight fit. The way tight clothing sat so closely against his skin was repulsive, like the fabric's expanse over the cells of his body were restricting him of oxygen.
He sorted through the assortment of clothes that had been given to him to wear, which properly suited his taste. As always, he was mildly impressed by his Boss' accuracy. Majority of it was black; it was really not that different from what he might wear on a usual day.
To break apart Castiel's trend of all black clothing, a white tie and some sleeve garters were thrown in. Naturally the owner of a fashion company would be quite keen on dressing up his subordinates to his liking, so no outfit was complete without a few more unnecessary accessories. This time, he had added an abrasively shiny silver collar pin. Castiel pierced through the collars of the shirt with the pin, not bothering to spend much time making sure they're perfectly symmetrical. His Boss has included a pair of glasses, just for a little extra interest. Castiel scoffed at this, taking it as a joke because he had perfect vision. Nonetheless, he put them on and took a minute to adjust his perception to them.
He brushed his fingers against the cool laminated marble counter, pressing his palms on it while leaning towards the mirror. Practicing one last polite smile, he tried lessening the tension in the corner of his lips. This formed a somewhat passable expression, ignoring his own discomfort at the slight metallic taste spreading on the back of his tongue from seeing the image. The sight was nothing short of abhorrent to him.
He sighed and gathered the clothes he was wearing previously and brought them out to Baaiman's assistant, who was leisurely shifting her feet and occasionally tapping her chunky heels on the floor outside the restroom. The woman seemed to momentarily glare at him before turning around without a word and carrying the neatly folded stack of damp clothing to their company car. She seemed to pay no attention to the rain as she stepped outside, simply allowing it to pour on her without complaints. Castiel figured she must be paid well.
Castiel went back into the restroom and took a few more seconds alone in it, enjoying the solitude before he was forced to leave. He checked the time on his phone before slipping it into his back pocket. He reached for the door handle, it was cold, sticking to his hand like an icy pole screaming at his palm to stay. The light jazz ambience slowly got quieter as he swung open the door and walked away from his unexpected sanctuary. This peaceful sound was replaced by the sporadic insect-like hums that the chatter between people produced. At any other time of day Castiel wouldn't mind it too much, but it was later than he usually worked until, and he was especially tired. The air was strangely light and thin, like the air on a mountain telling him he didn't have a place breathing on it.
Castiel scanned the room in vain, checking to see if he recognized any faces. While doing so, he couldn't help but pay attention to the repeated stinging in his eyes as he tried to focus on his surroundings. The lack of moisture had been begging for attention. In defeat, the man closed his eyes to temporarily replenish them, accidentally bumping into a woman's elbow while doing so.
"I'm sorry," he didn't miss a second and quickly apologized with a subtle smile.
The woman took absolutely no offence and beamed back at him with a wide grin, "don't worry about it, darling!" She casually put her slender hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer to herself, "how about a drink with me to make up for it?" She looked up at him with her round pleading eyes and fluttering lashes clumped together with mascara.
Castiel tilted his head, a little stunned. Ah, so she's that type of person, he thought.
He carefully brushed her hand off, reminding himself not to be too direct or rough with his rejection."I certainly appreciate it, but I have something to tend to."
"Something more important than me?" her welcoming smile didn't waver. She was determined.
"I suppose so," Castiel narrowed an eye at her behaviour. Do people often push to get their way?
The woman seemed disappointed and snorted, "alright then. See you around, dear." She gave her own pseudo polite attitude and awkwardly patted his back before raising her eyes to tell him to go on his way.
Castiel didn't need to be told, he left without hesitation once that was over. He stared at the crevices between each tile on the ground as he walked, not particularly appreciating how both his travel and line of thought got interrupted.
Now he looked straight at the path in front of him to make sure he wasn't bound to trip on anything next; or worse, make eye contact with someone and have them think he's inviting them for a chat.
He stopped for a second, thinking it might be better to find Baaiman and stand around him. It would certainly be easier to have him share the burden of carrying their company's name. As soon as he spotted his blond superior across the room, he turned to his direction and urgently headed towards him.
Baaiman had a small group of people around him, and his assistant stood a close distance away so that she wouldn't disrupt or unease them. In the group was a brunette woman in her early thirties wearing a burgundy coloured dress, and a man dressed in a black blazer and a regal purple tie. The woman laughed idly at the casual humorous remarks that were frequently being made. It was hard to say whether she actually found them funny or not.
Baaiman laughed with an ease of relief in his voice when he saw Castiel, who had begun to doubt if he was going to show up. Castiel was unaware of how pivotal his presence was. Though Baaiman had gone through the trouble of becoming friendly with some of those around him, Castiel was the one who would unofficially declare the relationship between their company and another. People either liked him and wished to collaborate further, or they didn't. Many interactions worked this way. It was irrational, but this is how the chairman of Castiel's company, February Wang, chose to do things. Chairman Wang believed in and fully relied on Castiel, almost as if he used him as a compass or pendulum.
Castiel had taken an awful amount of time making himself look presentable. The result returned him to what was once his original image, a refined young man with strong ambition, something he wasn't exactly anymore. He even put more weight on the confidence side of his internal scale to go with his appearance.
While Baaiman continued engaging with the people standing close by, Castiel once again fell into a state of stagnancy.
To entertain himself, he thought upon his own decisions. At what point had he ended up here? He pondered whether this was a waste of his precious time.
The sound of Baaiman's voice knocked him off his mental obelisk and brought him back to the real world, a place where time continues without any input of Castiel's mind.
"Right, this is one of our most promising members at HDC." The old man abruptly patted the boy's shoulder and nodded.
Castiel recalled the woman who had done a similar action not too long ago, it irked him a bit. Being touched in the same place twice felt strange.
"Don't be fooled, he may be younger in age and experience but he's certainly just as qualified as many of us." Baaiman said so in a light hearted tone, trying to prevent accidentally offending anyone.
The woman tilted her glass and brought a finger to her chin, the slight upward curve of her lips displaying approval of Castiel's braggable qualities.
Some say first impressions aren't important, and to Castiel, this was true. He could care less about what someone looked like or their amount of wealth and power. This doesn't solely apply to people of course; it isn't difficult for him to find artistic beauty in anything. Unlike this woman, who was notably quite picky. Just as Castiel liked the marble patterns in the restroom, this woman was fascinated by the complicated patterns in his eyes.
After a trade of mutual analysis, the woman proposed to start a conversation. She smiled in a professionally practiced way before speaking, "good evening, my name is Eliza Matthews. I am the current chief executive officer of Romaan Cars." She held out her hand, signaling for a handshake.
"Ah, CEO?" he said with a tone of respect to hold her in regard as he shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Matthews."
"Likewise."
Castiel knew that handshakes were also a vital part of first impressions. He usually went with the average medium firm grip and minimal shake. A handshake that was really nothing special; it didn't even assert his status as a living human being, since corpses could hold the same stiff grip after two hours of being dead. At best, it only enforced his independence as a person.
From this woman's strong enthusiastic handshake, it was a fair guess to assume she had an unwavering sense of security in her position of superiority. Years of experience did not go to waste in her. This quality of hers made her an inspiring role model for young people, something she took pride in.
Matthews wasn't done with introductions yet. "I haven't been told of your name, I'd love to grow familiar with it."
"Castiel Mortimer," he stated while awkwardly retracting his hand.
"What a lovely name, did your mother give it to you?" she continued to ask seemingly mindless questions. Castiel's name came as no surprise to her; she even knew how it was spelled.
"It was indeed my mother who named me," he responded but couldn't tell whether this was intended to be an insult towards him. "I'm flattered by your positive intentions."
Eliza laughed in a way that felt alienating, like a clear distinction between her status and someone below her. "No need to be so formal, outside work we're all just friends."
Once again, Castiel was stunned by someone's behaviour. She seemed to enjoy being seen in an authoritative light, so why did she claim to enjoy being on equal footing? Tonight had been filled with puzzling interactions. "Oh but I must, I couldn't possibly speak so comfortably with someone such as yourself."
Matthews's associate who had been waiting his turn to speak could no longer hold back. He interrupted this exchange of what looked like unfair rivalry between a middle schooler and an elementary student. It ceased to entertain him after a while. He wore a smile on his face that looked like it broadcasted the truth of a well kept secret to the world. He interjected with a laugh and held out his hand towards Castiel who seemed to be in another place mentally.
"Cassie, you're an impressive player in the field. It's not often companies come across such talent for work like you."
Cassie? Castiel wanted to ask God if he had sent the devil to test his anger. He held back a scoff.
The man paused for a second, carefully watching over the small shifts in Castiel's expression before momentarily continuing on with his excessive talking. "Or me," he added. "How pleasant it is that we're meeting under this… smog filled overcast."
Castiel raised a brow, there was one honest person in this building, but at the cost of his exhaustion being solidified. Humorous speakers were a terror, too much for him to tolerate.
"The weather is really unpleasant here if I must be honest," he shook his head, gazing out the window as if there was an interesting sight.
"The weather?" the smallest form of small talk, Castiel wanted to die. "Not a fan of rain, are you?"
"No, not exactly," he said with that same insufferable expression. He held out his hand, "though you seem to be."
Castiel didn't even notice the attempt of this man to shake his hand; he was still stuck being irritated at the use of an overly familiar nickname by a stranger. His brain fell a second delayed, taking too much care to not stumble over his words.
"You're correct on that," he added, despite not really wanting to converse any longer. "You… seem to have known my name already. May I have the pleasure of asking for yours?" Castiel didn't bother asking why his name was known by a CEO's associate.
"Samael Lascaris. Forgive me for not properly introducing myself right away." He held out his hand for a second time, hoping to finally get Castiel's full attention. Castiel took his hand and shook it softly. At this moment, a silent mutual sarcasm was exchanged. As if they were laughing at everyone else, especially each other.
Matthews gasped softly and smiled, in the same practiced manner as she had been displaying since the beginning. "Right! How could I forget, this is my associate. He's heavily responsible for organizing and planning this event."
Castiel teetered on the edge of calling bull; there's no way so much careful consideration was placed in this event by that man.
"Well then, it was a pleasure to converse with one of our neighbouring companies." Matthews gave one last nod at Castiel and Baaiman, her associate doing a similar action.
"It truly was. I say we should do this more often? It's quite beneficial to know people in our social sphere, don't you think?" Samael turned to ask Castiel, seemingly directly asking him for a response.
Castiel's face twitched, he wondered whether this Samael Lascaris was purposefully putting him on the spot. "Indeed, it may be beneficial."
The two exchanged smiles, both difficult to discern the intentions of.
Matthews gave one last friendly handshake to both members of HDC and took her associate to another group of people. Both Baaiman and Castiel watched as their conversation partners walked away. The harsh clanking sound of Matthews's heels dissipated into the background noise, and Samael's posture melted into a more casual stance as he put his hands in his pockets. Castiel almost doubted the authenticity of their behaviour, but their authority was certain. Castiel watched as their composure disappeared like actors once the camera stopped rolling.
The Baaiman let out a chuckle at his own business partner's behaviour. "You know, I really expected you to be less…" Baaiman paused for a moment, doing the best of his ability to explain to himself what exactly Castiel was like as a person. "Polite?" Baaiman still felt this word wasn't correct. "No, it's not politeness, it's more like tolerance."
"Tolerance?" tolerant of what? Castiel reflected on whether he appeared to be backhanded. "Forgive my curiosity, what were you expecting?"
Baaiman couldn't admit his image of a ruthless arrogant little kid who felt entitled to power because of his father's money. "Nothing, nothing at all."