Life's What You Make It - Chapter 1

Chapter One

Part 1 - England 1985

Chapter 1 - The Boy Wonders

The bright sunlight peeked through the heavy burgundy curtains of the great room. Sebastian Irons felt the warmth of the sun on his face and squinted as he opened his eyes. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure where he was. A quick glance around the room told him he was in Alistair’s flat. He looked down at himself sprawled across the horsehair paisley sofa, wedged between Jemma and Astrid, the two leggy beauties he had picked up at the club last night. Jemma’s messy blonde mane tickled his neck as she lay nuzzled in the nook of his shoulder. Astrid’s legs were intertwined with his and her right arm was draped across his stomach. Sebastian’s suit coat was crumpled up in a ball on the floor and his white shirt was unbuttoned and rumpled. He had no idea what had happened to his silk tie.

Across the room, he spied Colin Harris and his girl asleep on the chaise. Oliver Harris looked uncomfortable sleeping with his girl on his lap in the straight-backed chair, his feet propped on an Oriental chest. Sebastian was able to maneuver his wrist to read the time on his Rolex. It was noon. Oh well, he thought; he didn’t feel like going to class today anyway.

 He untangled himself from the girls and slowly stood up. A yawn escaped his lips as he stretched his arms above his head. Then he made his way to the breakfast room, where the smell of freshly brewed coffee beckoned.

Upon entering the room, he found Holmes, wearing a simple black suit and round spectacles, hovering over a tray of fresh fruit and warm croissants. “Ah, Lord Sebastian, good morning to you,” Holmes greeted him.

“Good morning, how are you?” Sebastian asked while snagging a croissant.

“Very well, indeed,” Holmes replied, handing Sebastian his coffee in a china cup along with two aspirin. 

Sebastian sat down at the table. A copy of News of the World lay open to page two.  “Quite a night you had there,” Holmes commented, gesturing to the paper.

“Yes,” Sebastian agreed, glancing at the photo of Colin, Oliver, Alistair, and himself stumbling out of The Chinaman Club with the girls draped on their arms. He closed the paper and downed his coffee.

“I laid out your clothes in Prince Alistair’s dressing room when you are ready to freshen up.” Sebastian spent most of his time at Alastair’s flat, so Holmes made sure to keep a few of Sebastian’s items on hand when he slept overnight.

“Thank you, Holmes. You take very good care of me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Nonsense!” he retorted. “You always were my favorite,” he whispered with a wink.

Sebastian laughed. “You’re a good man.” He grabbed the silver coffee carafe and headed for the bathroom.  

Sebastian stripped off his smoke-laden clothes and turned on the double-headed spa shower. He took one last sip of coffee before stepping into the marble enclosure. The hot water washed over him. It felt good and seemed to help the headache he was nursing from another heavy night of drinking.

 When he finished showering, he dressed in a pair of starched khakis, a striped woven shirt and a lightweight, navy cashmere sweater. Sitting down at the dressing table, Sebastian picked up the ivory handled brush and tamed his damp brown hair. The image of the young man in the mirror, with his fair skin and pink blushed cheeks, was handsome. But something seemed foreign to him, almost as if he didn’t recognize himself at all. He sat there for a long while staring back at his reflection. How many other seventeen-year-old men would sell their soul to the devil to live the life he led? He shook his head in disgust and pushed away from the table.