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Chapter 2.2
The Party Chapter
"Sing for me."


**Warning: Coarse language ahead.**
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"Slow down, Emily. I'm not as durable as you are." Cecelia appeared exhausted, both physically and mentally, even though it was only eight in the morning. "Have you any idea how far we've been running?"

Despite being known for its unbearably hot weather, The City was still occasionally blessed with cool days, or at least mornings. And this was one of them. Located by the ocean, if there was anywhere in this city that enjoyed the most sea breeze, it was the White Sands beach. One of the favourite tourist hotspots, the White Sands had generated millions worth of Simoleons for The City in the past three years. It was loved by both the young and old for its extensive stretch along the coast, coupled with eye-catching architectural designs that brought a refreshing festive feel to the entire area. A perfect party and wedding destination, the White Sands was usually fully booked throughout the year. It was said that only very few powerful figures or incredibly lucky people could land an advanced booking on this place.

Following the "Wallace phenomenon" - no, that's not referring to the rise of Wallace, but rather his downfall and the murderous streak - The City had lost its brightest icon, together with the inspiration that had reshaped the city over five years ago. Nowadays, when asking a random Citizen anything regarding his career, you would most certainly receive a standard answer along the lines of 'Career? No, I'm not crazy. I don't want to become a murderer afterwards." That could be one of the reasons explaining the increased number of people visiting community areas, shopping malls and places of attraction these days, especially the White Sands. The City had flipped a hundred and eighty degrees, from one characterized by uptight competitiveness to a heavenly holiday destination - at least now that Wallace had been caught and locked away.

It was Sunday, the day after Wallace's sentencing. Cecelia and Emily were still hanging around the area, letting some steam off after their late night detective attempt.

"I'm sorry," Emily replied as she tried to slow down, "it was just so, so scary!"

"It was your idea." Cecelia grumbled.

"I'm sorry, okay?" Emily knew how much her roommate disliked adrenaline rushes. Cecelia only wanted to do things she could firmly get a hold of. Expecting the unexpected was definitely not in her list of hobbies. "At least they didn't even come close to catching us." Emily tried to calm Cecelia down.

"Oh, you have no idea. I was the one waking up to the security guard's approaching footsteps!" Cecelia seemed furious, but childishly so. "What if we'd woken up a few seconds later?"

"Well, we made it out! And it's all thanks to you." Emily attempted another recovery. "I owe you one."

Once again, Cecelia was quickly flattered. "Make it two. Now you have to treat me to two lunches, and introduce me to another guy!" The boy-crazy brunette made her demands and laughed inside with devious pleasure.

"Awww c'mon!" Emily surrendered.

"Tommy, alright? Introduce me to Tommy." Cecelia pictured herself dating the hunky Drama club talent and giggled. She then mumbled, "Emily you lucky duck. Why must all the cute boys be in the same course as you?"

"Fine. But you gotta admit, you did enjoy all that action."

Cecelia laughed, "Yeah, okay. A little. Just because it made me feel like I was in a movie." She recalled the sequence in her head, "All that sneaking around, crawling on the floor, climbing in and out the windows."

Emily was excited, too. "I know, right? Let's do it ag--"

"Nuh-uh. Not in this lifetime, girly." Cecelia cut her adventurous friend mid-sentenced. "Besides, we got what we came for. I suppose you're satisfied?"

"More or less." The pink-haired girl flashed a smile and a look of fulfillment on her face.

"Wait. Tell me again, what have we got?" As usual, other than boy fantasies and her own ambitions, Cecelia's mind was not able to retain much information pertaining to others. However, she was confident she would not face many problems because of that, as long as the reliable Emily was around.

"Well. We now know that he--"

"Wait, wait! Look over there, Em!"

The two girls directed their attention towards the White Sands' famous outdoor restaurant - formerly known as Cedric's Restaurant, before it was signed over to none other than Wallace West. Eight o'clock in the morning was now considered too early for any adults to be awake on a Sunday. They'd sleep in til noon, get up, have lunch out and go to the theater for the regular weekend extended plays. However, Cecelia and Emily had caught a rare sight of an elderly couple relaxing at a table on this fine Sunday morning, and that was not the only surprising thing. As the two girls quickly recognized, it was judge Nick Alto, whom they had witnessed giving the final call on Wallace's sentencing to fifty years of prison the previous afternoon, and his wife Vita.

Having been married for over four decades, Nick and Vita Alto shared a bond of love, friendship and compassion for each other, and each other only, stronger than most other married couples in The City. As dangerous as his line of work could get, Vita was the one and only person Nick could entrust with any secret at all.

As the curious young girls could immediately tell, Nick and Vita Alto were having some kind of serious discussion. Suspecting it might have something to do with Nick's first court duty in eighteen months that had just taken place less than twenty hours ago, Emily and Cecelia decided to find a safe position to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"You've been silent since you came home yesterday." Vita spoke up after she took a sip of the restaurant's trademark apple juice. "Why is it do you want to drag the conversation out here in the open, when it could've been more private at home?" Vita Alto was always known as a vicious woman. Brutal with her words, she was said to be the only person that could handle an overly proud Nick Alto.

"I needed some fresh air." Nick Alto was still stressed. The pressure of the court had worn him out.

"Better now?" Vita patiently looked at her husband, waiting for the catch. "So, what is it?"

"It didn't go the way I wanted."

"Didn't the go the way anyone wanted." Vita had anticipated the words that came out of her husband's mouth. She knew him all too well.

"No. A lot of people in this city sympathized with him."

"Just because he was a little unlucky in the past." The cold-hearted lady spat out the words in disgust. "Doesn't justify any of his unthinkable crimes."

"I know he really did it."

"Of course he did." Vita thought her husband was being disappointing. She had expected more to the conversation.

Nick Alto understood that Vita was not impressed. "You don't get it. I know he consciously did everything that he did. With a motive. A drive."

"You mean, not because he got over-emotional after reading his own journal and decided to take it out on everybody?" Her tone was clearly full of sour sarcasm.

"As I've told you over and over again. For Christ's sake, I saw with my own two eyes, Vita."

Emily and Cecelia, hiding in a bush nearby, were both shocked and completely puzzled at the same time. They looked at each other, wide-eyed and lost, then turned back to continue observing this very curious conversation.

Nick Alto's mistress sighed. She was most probably thinking her husband was being paranoid. "So then, why did you let him live?"

"I couldn't overrule on that one. His brain signature clearly indicated he had not regained his lost memories. There were no definite evidences or witnesses other than some of his fingerprints, strands of hair and the fact that he confessed he'd carried out the murders without real motives. Fifty years in the Gorgon Heights was the best I could go for."

"Pity." Vita Alto remained unmoved.

"Now everybody's beginning to question the system." Nick continued. "While the people supporting him are saying what he did was exacting the justice the system failed to protect and it's only reasonable that he can't be executed, the people who are against him are also opposing us for being ineffective."

Vita stayed silent.

"In no time, they're all going to switch to his side. Doesn't that mean he's won?"

"A bit far-fetched for someone with no memory, don't you think?" Vita seemed to disagree with her husband's logic. "And that's assuming what you saw was right, and that he does actually have a motive."

"Vita--"

"Unbelievable, though," she scoffed, "to think that that charming kid we once met could be capable of such things."

"We met him that one time, where--"

Vita glanced at Nick, "Frankly, your memory isn't that good either, Nicky." She took another sip. "Right here. Exactly five years ago."

The blurry images were slowly forming in the judge's mind. "That's right. The party."




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Wallace rushed down the stairs, out of the mansion to where his car was parked. Noticing her son being in a hurry, Christine West shouted over from the garden where she was tending her beloved sunflowers. "Where are you going, Wally? Isn't it a bit early?"

"No mom, I'm meeting Angela. Then I'll see you guys at the beach." Wallace quickly replied as he hopped into his cherry red Ferrari.

"You kids dating?" The loving mother joked.

"Very funny, mom. I'm off." Wallace started the engine and zoomed away to the North Cafe, where Angela was waiting for him.



The North Cafe was located at a humble corner of The City. Only the most experienced people would know this place, and the owner intended to keep it that way. Unlike most Citizens, he disliked crowds and competitiveness, and instead cherished peace and tranquility. Knowing her best friend's trail of fangirls and paparazzis, Angela had picked this strategic place for their occasional hangouts and heart-to-heart talks. In fact, Wallace himself would not pick any place other than this, for he was in love with the simple yet cozy decor put up by the very artistic owner.

Angela took a quick glance at her wristwatch. "You're late, dickhead."

"You're early." Wallace playfully replied as he walked towards the table where his best friend was seated.

"Stayed over at your parents', mama's boy?" Angela smirked.

"Yup. They're both alright."

"I didn't ask."

"Well, just in case." Wallace saw that response coming, and he knew she would've asked if he hadn't said anything. "How did it go at your dad's last night?"

"Shitty. People love tiring themselves out with work. They use their cars more, screw them up more often, more work for my dad. And when that happens, I have to waste time helping." That was, in a sense, Angela's way of saying she had fun.

Wallace noticed one or two blisters on Angela's fingers. "Hmm. Let me see that hand?"

"The only thing I might let you see is my fist going up your ass." Angela quickly flipped her hand.

"You're welcome."

"My old man said you got cuter every time he saw you, by the way."

"Whoa, thank you uncle Doom. That's slightly creepy, though." They both laughed.

"He only loves your money. Imagine how much motherfuckin' alcohol he'd get if he got his hands on a thousandth of your income."

"Exactly why you've always rejected my offers to help him, right?"

"Uh-huh."

After a brief pause, Wallace moved on to what he had wanted to ask Angela since he'd gotten the invitation to the party. "Dude, about the party later? Wanna come with me?"

Angela was surprised. "You off your freakin' rocker? Where's my place amongst you big shots? Besides, I wouldn't even receive such an invitation in another few hundred years, being who I am." She felt rather bitter about her own social position as she spoke.

"Surely they'd allow a plus one."

"I'll trash the place if I ever step foot there, and your dad will kill you for that." Angela made a clumsy excuse and tried to mask it with laughter. She felt awkwardly embarrassed, while being afraid her pride would be hurt if she agreed to tag along. "So I'll pass."

Wallace understood, although he had had his hopes up. "Well. It'll be really boring for me there. I don't talk politics."

"Pick up a chick." Angela tried to console her friend.

"Well, I know Vita Alto is gonna be there."

"The Vita Alto?"

They both laughed.

"What are you gonna do then?" Wallace asked.

"Fight club, probably."

"Good luck to the dude." Wallace knew exactly just how competent his fearless friend was at hand-to-hand combat. After all, they'd undergone the same karatedo course.

"No amount of luck will help the motherfucker."

"Then may he beg for your mercy."

"Sorry buddy. No mercy. Well, except for maybe you."

They traded warm smiles and a big hug. It was five o'clock and the party was starting shortly. Wallace said goodbye to his beloved friend and was gone to the beach in a flash. "This street corner is really fucking empty." Angela thought to herself as she finished up her avocado milkshake. She stayed at North Cafe for a little longer, alone.





Nightfall. The White Sands was brightly illuminated with a highly sophisticated lighting system designed by Wallace himself - one of his humbler innovations. Booming with a mishmash of music, ranging from classical to death metal, catering to the large and diverse group of party goers on this night, the city coast was shaken alive at the expense of nearby residences. Night time at the White Sands was indeed quite a sight any night other than this, when its true beauty was not overwhelmed by the, more often than not, overly festive mood. After all, when such extremely loud and exaggerated parties as this did not take place, the White Sands was usually chosen as a wedding location for its mesmerizing beauty during sunsets and soothing sounds of far ocean waves crashing into giant breakwaters.

It was only a few minutes past seven, but the party seemed to have begun hours ago. Everyone was present, in high spirits and chatting their lungs out. All the most prominent faces of The Country can be spotted here, from national leaders - the hosts - to movie legends, rising teenage pop stars. And Wallace. The best part was, thanks to it being hosted by the government, this party was a private event. Every single person present here was completely free of pressure of the press, fans and even hooligans. They could safely call this a night to enjoy. Conditions were perfect for socializing, making contacts and grabbing opportunities. Wallace walked around the party room, feeling slightly out of place, partly due to the fact that he was hardly interested in politics, and also because he felt like a moving target for advantage takers.

In the main hall, where just about everyone was roaming, Michael and Christine West were sharing a moment.

"I don't like this" Michael said, frowning. "They make serious national matters look like child's play."

Christine gently smiled. She adjusted her husband's bow tie and quietly reassured him. "Well, then you go up there and remind people that they're not. Then relax, and try to enjoy yourself. You've worked hard. You deserve this."

Michael was still thoughtful. "Why do I not feel like I've achieved something?"

"Because you're a big, humble and nice man, Minister." Christine patted her husband's shoulder. "I'm here for you."

His wife was truly his salvation. Michael West felt completely at ease as he took the microphone to the stage to deliver an opening speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen. We are gathered here today to celebrate one of the most vital moments in our great nation's political history. A success."

Christine pleasantly stood by and watched her husband carrying on his speech. She knew she couldn't have asked for a better man to rely on.



Wallace was outside, taking a break from talking to people, when he heard the thundering hand claps that followed his father's awe-inspiring words. Even though he had gone to so many parties that his feelings for them might have saturated altogether, Wallace still found it difficult to deal with socializing sometimes, especially when facing people who tried to make an impression by promoting themselves. As his mind wandered off for a moment, he bumped into a man who was walking in his direction.

"I'm so sorry." Wallace quickly apologized.

"It's al-- Wait, are you Wallace West?" The man enthusiastically replied upon realizing the famous figure in front of him.

"Oh, shit", thought Wallace. "Yes, I am. I'm sorry, you are?" He asked.

The man immediately offered his hand. He appeared overly excited, finally being able to approach his role model of sorts. "Bunch. Ethan Bunch."

"Nice to meet you." Wallace was keeping to his manners as they shook hands.

"I can't begin to tell you how incredible it is to finally meet you in person!" Ethan, younger, livelier and more innocent than we had come to know, expressed his immediate feelings to Wallace.

"Thank you." the celebrity flashed a friendly smile and tried to avoid further conversation. Even though he was considered a celebrity, he was a shy one at that.

Ethan noticed Wallace's uneasiness almost right away, being perceptive as he always was. "Oh. Yes. I'm very sorry for taking up your time" He did not forget, however, to introduce himself a little to try to create a memory, if possible. "If there's ever any need, I'm more than willing to help you out in the future. I work at General Hospital. Brain surgeon."

Wallace paused for a second, glanced up as if to memorize Ethan's face - a gesture suggesting that he had acknowledged the then unknown young man - and replied, "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

"Wally, baby, there you are!" Christine's voice calling out disrupted the conversation between the two people. The classy mother was approaching them from afar, together with two other ladies.

"Oops. Mommy calling, gotta head over there." Wallace nodded his goodbye to Ethan Bunch, who was then fully satisfied for successfully making an impression and agreed to move away. He knew Wallace would help him rise up in his career. He just had no idea in what bizarre fashion would that happen.

"I believe you have met my dear friend, Ms Agnes Esperanza. And this is her daughter, the very, very beautiful Catherine."

"She's also a rising singer." Agnes Esperanza added in excitement, wanting to help her daughter socialize with bigger figures in order to boost her career.

Wallace tried his best to recall distant childhood memories of Agnes, while looking at Catherine and attempting to register her appearance into his memory, just in case they ever met again after this party.

Catherine appeared to him as a girl in her early twenties. Youthful, attractive and daring. She had a bourgeois sense of fashion, wearing the most trendy clothes that appealed to the masses - one of the basic marketing moves in the current music industry. Her dark shades, however, made her hard to read and all the more attractive. Still appreciating Catherine's looks, Wallace was caught off-guard by words that he did not often receive, coming from her. "Checking me out, big boy?"

While the Wests were stunned, Agnes quickly tried to cover up for her daughter. "I'm so sorry, she's very impulsive."

However, rather than being offended, Wallace was intrigued by Catherine's attitude. He saw a strong-willed woman in her. "No, it's alright. I was kind of checking her out, and I'm sorry, Catherine." He smoothly replied.

Catherine appeared more interested. "Is that what you hotshots always enjoy doing? Checking girls out and forget about them the next day?"

Christine West seemed angered. Agnes noticed, and immediately attempted another apology. "Gosh, I'm so sorry." She turned to her devious daughter, "Catherine. You're being inappropriate. Apologize."

"Alright." Catherine apologized, sarcastically. "I'm terribly sorry, your highness."

Wallace did not reply. He was still being left speechless by this very interesting person's character.

Taking advantage of the situation, Agnes quickly whispered to her close friend. "Christine, I'm begging for a favour from you here."

Being a kind-hearted woman, Christine willingly agreed to Agnes's plead and played along with the little scheme that she had planned for her daughter. After all, hardly anyone ever had a chance at directly socializing with the famous Wallace. Such a precious opportunity could take one's career to another level, and if it was made good use of, he would never need to worry about his life ever again. Unless he got killed, that is. After a short second listening to Agnes's whispers, Christine looked up and said to her son, "Wally? Agnes and I are heading over there for a bit. You stay here with Catherine, alright? You're a man, and she needs looking after."

Wallace fully comprehended that this was a sloppy socializing set up. A women's rights advocate like Christine would never have said anything along that line, and no one understood this better than her own son.

Catherine muttered to herself, "What the hell, mom?"

The mothers hastily fled the scene, leaving their kids standing there on the beach in awkward silence.

Wallace took the initiative, "Do you wanna, uh--, go over there?" He gestured towards the further side of the beach.

Not replying to the offer, Catherine proceeded to walking in the suggested direction, not waiting for him. Wallace became even more stunned. Never before Angela had he seen another girl who was not blinded and submitted to him simply because of his status. This had made him want to truly get to know her in person. A socializing session to make friends, rather than plain and dry professional purposes.