Half an hour after the party began.
Urban Mirage Club was really a high-end place.
The entrance was guarded with red velvet ropes and muscled bouncers who were dressed up like genies with high ponytails and Arabic-themed clothing. A red carpet led inside the club itself.
When the receptionist checked if Tristan's name was on the guest list, his heart skipped a bit... but he was let in without a second glance.
The first thing he did inside was to explore the place.
The inner part of the Urban Mirage Club was also decorated in Arabic theme, but also very neon. It looked like an LSD-trip into a treasure trove of Aladdin.
The massive main hall was decorated with gold and blue mood lighting, and several life-sized metal sculptures of dancing women acted like secondary disco balls.
A dance floor, mostly empty now, stood on an elevated stage near a DJ booth, which was surrounded by LED screens showing abstract visuals in the beat of the music.
The UV lights made waiters in white glow blue and appear as genie-like as the bouncers. Some guests also stuck to the club's theme, while others didn't care.
Tristan was actually somewhat early to the party itself, despite coming half an hour after the opening time.
A lot of the guests still weren't here, and the main show program didn't start.
After exploring the premises, Tristan sat at a table, pretending to sip a drink and observing the guests. With his sneaking (stealth) skill, Tristan found the best seat to take—one where he will be almost unnoticeable by others.
Instead of giving out his usual stunningly charismatic air, Tristan's current expression and posture made him less noticeable to other people. They saw him, but their gazes immediately moved past him to more interesting people.
And there were a lot of more interesting people. Celebrities of the kind who won't give Tristan Gemello another glance if they saw him on the street...
Big Rocket went upstairs to the rooftop terrace. The place was much quieter, with the music being only barely audible, and had much fewer people.
Some guests lounged on couches or near the secondary bar, but this was clearly a place to relax, shake off alcohol influence from yourself, and not bother other people.
Despite this, Tristan sat next to Big Rocket at the bar, ordered himself another overpriced drink just to look less weird, and didn't move away.
As soon as the barman was distracted by another customer away from both of them, Tristan turned toward Big Rocket, who was nursing his own drink, with a smile. From the side, it looked like Tristan was just being friendly.
"Hi, Mr. Rocket. I thought you'd be different from what I see now. More old-fashioned, square guy, you know."
"Huh? Dude, what are you about? Don't talk that drunk shit to me, man! I don't know ya, and I'm ain't here to shake hands with fans!"
Tristan kept smiling.
"The joke didn't land, eh? A square guy, because squares have four angles. Get it now? Four. Angles. Four... angles..."
With great satisfaction, Tristan watched how Big Rocket's annoyed face froze, and the man became a shade paler before swiftly turning back to his drink.
To give him credit, this was the extent of his reaction.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
Tristan added some hypnotism in his voice. .net
"Tristan Hayes, at your service and glad to meet you. For the rest—why won't we talk somewhere quieter? I bet you have access to one of the private rooms of this place. Don't worry, I won't bite."
Big Rocket's fingers clenched on his glass, but they were still shaking. He gulped the rest of it in one go and stood up.
"Y-yeah. 'course. Let's go."