The City

Pressed and dressed, Frederico entered the United Nations’ hall for the unveiling of his mural.  His nerves allayed by a little yellow pill, he mingled and charmed his way through the soiree, meeting potential project sponsors.  The official unveiling was still hours away and a finely tuned evening, organized by Leon, was ahead of them.

Looking glamorous in a black gown Nina mingled with the ambassadorial staff and other notables.  She caught Frederico’s eye with a smile and a nod as she spoke with an attaché to the US delegation. Entrenched with a group of art critics, he managed to signal to new arrivals Martin, Tyler, and Jacob that they should rescue her. 

The trio looked sharp, Jacob having thrown together some last minute cummerbunds and sashes from a supply of drapery linens he’d been hoarding.  Martin was extra charming, being that Nina had just interviewed him that afternoon for an assistant position at her real estate firm. 

Downing a flute of champagne Jacob seemed to have forgotten his troubles from the afternoon and was flirting openly with the US attaché.  Nina pulled herself away and moved over to Frederico and his group.  Linking his arm she smiled and shook hands with the critics.  Tyler watched her mannerisms and thought back on her recent divorce and the depression that followed it.  Tonight she glowed, perhaps the flattery of the attention from being Frederico’s primary model. 

“What are you staring at?” Martin asked, snapping a mini-crepe from a passing tray.    “Just admiring Nina’s glow,” Tyler responded.     “Well, don’t get any ideas.  You may be out of practice, but your still playing for our team,” Martin said.  “C’mon, lets see if the bar has any jagermeister.”  The two walked off as Jacob and the attaché laughed their way into a corner. 

Wearing an earpiece and talking into a walkie-talkie, Leon was coordinating the lighting director.  “At exactly 10 past the hour I want the lights to go down by 60% for the mayor’s introduction.  We’ll need a spotlight on the main podium.  Make sure the artist, the committee chairwoman, and the secretary-general are seated on the daise.  What?  I don’t know, you’ll have to get somebody to find them.  He’s a short man with big ears.  I’m sure you can find him, he speaks Finnish.  Just do it.  After the remarks from the chairwoman the artist will have two minutes to introduce the piece and then he’ll pull the cord to unveil the mural.  The cord isn’t really connected to the curtain, so you’ll need to get someone up there to drop it.  What?  Your cousin?  Sure, I don’t care, just get someone up there.  At that point I’ll cue the music, applause, applause, and then you can bring the lights back up to 20% shy of where they are now.  Understand?  I don’t have time to go over it again, you’ll find the instructions on page 18 of the program I glued to your clipboard.  Is Margaret with you?  Put her on.  Margaret?  What’s the deal with station 8?  They ran out of ice.  I need someone to get them ice pronto.  This isn’t rocket science, just water in its solid form.  Thank you.  And after that see if the shrimp platters have been circulating.  Please, don’t get me started on the Moroccan delegations’s diety restrictions.  If they can’t eat shrimp, they won’t eat shrimp.  The Tongans on the other hand can’t seem to get enough of the stuff.  By the time the curtain drops all the shellfish should be out of the kitchen anyway.  What?  The lights in the fountain?  I don’t think we can control those.  They’ll have to be ambient.  With the spotlight on the mural it shouldn’t matter.  Worry about the food honey.  Thanks.”  

While he was talking Franz entered, looking dapper.  He snuck up behind his partner and gleamed listening to him take charge.  He put his hand firmly on Leon’s shoulder and squeezed.  Leon turned, snuck in a kiss without stopping his directions to his staff.  Franz felt his cell phone vibrate and he snuck off to an alcove to take the call.

It was from Kimmie.  In a great mood he was ready to forgive her for their argumentative interaction that afternoon.  She apologized for costing him two more employees.  He said he understood (which he sort of did) and was only bitter about the extra work ahead for him to replace them.  She suggested that he and Leon come to Memphis for a mini-vacation so she could make it up to him.  He agreed that it sounded like a good idea and would discuss it with Leon after the gala. 

Snapping off his phone, he turned around to come face to face with Jacob and the attaché aggressively kissing behind a velvet curtain.  Franz watched for a moment and then walked off.

In his remarks to introduce the mural, Frederico singled out Nina for her contributions as his model.  He pulled the cord and unveiled the wall to a flurry of flashbulbs and applause.  Feeling great from the yellow pill and a glass of champagne he pumped his fists into the air and gave a shout.  “What is he doing?” Tyler whispered into Martin’s ear.     “It’s a Cherokee battle cry he does on special occasions,” Martin whispered back. “He used to do it for me during.  …. Well, he used to do it for me.”      Tyler grabbed him another flute of champagne and the two toasted a great past and a promising future. 

Meanwhile, Franz’s cell phone rang again.  Going back to the alcove where Jacob was practicing his own form of art appreciation, he took the call.  It was from his new dogwalker, who was watching the house in New Jersey for the night.  “Hi Todd, what can I do for you?”

In New Jersey Todd sat on their couch and stroked the dog’s head.  “I was just calling to see how Frederico’s big night was going,” he said.

What does the City have in store next for our heroes? Stay tuned.

Initially based on actual events and real people, the story has progressed to such a point as to render everyone and everything unrecognizable.  Nonetheless, names and associations may have been altered to protect the guilty or to make things seem more interesting.

On his second cup of coffee of the morning, Leon chowed on a dry bagel and shook hands with the back-up caterer.  He was flying on faith that the runnerup company hired to handle bar service would be able to overcome the minor setback of losing the primary caterer due to a food poisoning lawsuit.  Checking that off his mental To Do List, he hailed a cab to get across town to oversee the delivery of flowers.  Seeing that one of his assistants was well capable, he then turned to the task of getting the evening’s list of speakers ironed out one last time and calling the printer to approve final revisions.  After that he took a breather by calling on the UN’s interpreter pool to be sure they had someone fluent in both Welsh and Swazi to escort the Zambian ambassador’s wife.

Meanwhile, stepping out of the subway Martin straightened his lapel and checked a final time that he had his resume on him before stepping into the offices of Harlem Realty for his interview.  “Is that Martin?” a familiar voice called.  He spun around to find himself face to face with Tyler’s friend and Frederico’s muse, Nina.  “Hey!” he said, less professionally than he would have liked.   “I thought I recognized your name,” she said.  “I’ll be interviewing you. Come on in and have a seat.”

Back in Brooklyn, Jacob returned to the apartment from the overwhelming good news his banker told him. Just that morning he learned he was in possession of quite a chunk of change.  He set about plastering the kitchen wall as his mind wandered.  The events of the last year now had a new light on them.  His anger towards Helmut, the lying German who instigated the affair with his cheating boyfriend that led to their breakup, swelled.  True that Jacob was quite wealthier because of the guilt felt by his ex, but remorse made him fantasize about the future they could have had together.  The full knowledge of what they had jointly accumulated made Jacob seethe with anger.  And all of the blame he was placing on Helmut. 

Tyler met Greg for lunch.  Greg told him the story of the bartender who had been a reliable source of entertainment without strings.  And how suddenly Greg found himself in the unexpected situation of being solicited for dates.  “Why would he go and ruin a good thing by trying to get me to dinner and a movie?” Greg posed.     To which Tyler responded, “Maybe it wasn’t a good thing for him anymore.”    “But why me?” Greg asked. “I’m totally not the dating kind.  He should be asking you.”    “ME?!” Tyler leaned back in his chair. “I don’t date.  Not for a full year.  I’m on sabbatical.”

After lunch, Franz sat in his office going over his plans for the weekend with Leon .  A knock on the door snapped him from his daydream.   It was another of his employees entering to offer a letter of resignation.  Disappointment crept in as he asked the employee the name of the company who had made a better offer.  After shaking hands, Franz picked up the phone and called his good friend Kimmie.  “So, you got another one of mine,” he said, less than polite.    “I see you just spoke to Veronica,” Kimmie said.     “No, that was Reggie,” Franz replied. “I should expect Veronica later today?”  After a terse exchange, the two friends said their goodbyes.

And after a day of sleep and relaxation, Frederico dressed and headed down to the UN.  His afternoon schedule included previews of the mural for a few board members and dignitaries before the official unveiling that evening.  A specifically timed pill guaranteed that he’d be calm and relaxed for the rest of the evening.

What does the City have in store next for our heroes? Stay tuned.

Initially based on actual events and real people, the story has progressed to such a point as to render everyone and everything unrecognizable.  Nonetheless, names and associations may have been altered to protect the guilty or to make things seem more interesting.