The White Lab - Book 1: Enter a New World

Prologue

It was the perfect summery afternoon to spend on the Bay of Plenty beachfront, in the city of Durban. The African sun had tinted the sky a magnificent, fiery orange, which seeped into the magenta and deep purple hues found at the edges of the horizon on the east coast.

In the distance, the city's population of pigeons could be heard settling in for the evening, just as their fellow human counterparts made their way to the many restaurants which dotted the Golden Mile. Here patrons could be found either making their way to the local promenade for an evening out with friends or family after a long week's work or heading to catch the last of the waves before sunset.

People from all walks of life were merrily chatting among themselves, seated along the sand on the beach or at tables outside restaurants, overlooking the calming presence of the ocean ahead and enjoying their weekend. Meanwhile, braais were fired up along the beachfront. The wors were simmering away happily on the grate of the braai stand, the delicious smell of braai meat permeating the area; as everyone gathered around either dancing to gunes played through their vehicle's amplified sound system or holding a Heineken in their hand.

Pizza houses rolled out their finest doughed delicacies and chicken wings were ordered by the barrel. Everyone seemed to be in a cheerful mood, celebrating a victory. After all, the champions of the recent World Cup had every right to celebrate.

Amidst all the hustle and bustle of the evening's most intricate activities along the promenade, a tall man sauntered past the crowds, his appearance unlike the rest of folk around him.

The man was dressed in black, chinos and a white cotton shirt, a couple of buttons near the collar were unbuttoned. And the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up at the cuffs. His hair was short, though a fringe fell on his forehead, highlighting his handsome features; and his black, suede loafers were in impeccable condition. The man had naturally caught a few glances from the people around him as he wended his way through the crowds. He looked confident and the smell  of expensive cologne radiated off him. Though, he was oblivious to the compliments and attention he received. Finally,  after some delay as he waited for an old woman to walk slowly past the door, he made his way into one of the indoor restaurants.

The man entered the restuarant confidently, making his way towards the far end, where he would be having his meeting. A waitress appeared at his side within a few seconds, swiftly assisting him.

"Goodevening sir. Do you need a table?" The young woman greeted politely.

"No thanks, I'm here to meet a group of people." He replied nonchalantly, his voice was pleasant and caressed the senses when he spoke.

"Let me help you find them, right this way." The woman smiled, leading him to a booth at the back of the restaurant, which was located in the non-smokers area.

The chinking of glasses and cutlery could be heard in the restaurant as the man walked through to the booth he'd reserved. As he drew nearer, he spotted a small group of men, already seated at the booth.

"I think I've found them. Thanks." He smiled at her I thanks and walked over to the table.

"Yash! Wow man! We didn't know it was fancy dress bro." One of the men, who appeared to be around Yash's age replied, running a hand through his short, black hair.

The man was dressed in a short-sleeved maroon Henley, with a pair of black jeans and maroon sneakers.

"Yeah, Yash. Now we all look a bit under-dressed..." A second young man replied, looking a little bothered as he picked his nails dramatically.

This man wore an army green, sleeveless tank top, which displayed the beautiful tattoos he had snaking around both his toned, muscular arms. He too wore jeans, however he  wore Converse hightops, and laid on the seat next to him was a black hoodie. His hair was dyed pink; which accentuated the silver piercings on his right brow and lip, as well as both his ears.