11:11 (New Version)

-1-

New York City
-Collin Rivera-

Inconsequential, polite conversation. It was a chore to him, yet, he participated. Maybe he had a choice, maybe not, but it was more so out of the pressure of being polite. The people were also kind, but some of the smiles seemed forced and many of the guests refused to meet his eye.

Was he too poor for their liking? Too young?

He looked down at his suit, checking for wrinkles or stray lint that the dry cleaner might have missed. There was nothing...

"Collin, love. You look fine," Midas murmured in his ear.

"Midas!" Collin jumped out of fright. He hadn't heard him approach. Midas had been outside with a business associate for quite some time; Collin had not expected him to be back so soon.  "Why-"

The man kissed his cheek and smiled. "Sorry, love. I did not mean to frighten you. I just finished speaking to the man and spotted you picking at your suit."

Collin flushed in embarrassment.

"There is nothing wrong with your appearance. Just continue doing as I taught you to do," Midas advised, "Smile and be polite. If they make small talk, try to listen."

Then Midas disappeared again, just as swiftly as he first came.

Collin let out a heavy sigh.

Champagne sat alone in forgotten glasses littered along the table, just sound of soft classical music flooded the background.  The richest of the rich collaborated with one another, sharing secrets and bragging about who has earned the most; money, awards, and fleeting lovers. In the back corner, a group of ladies sat together to drink wine while several couples performed a waltz in the middle of the ballroom floor.

It amazed Collin to consider all of these people to be Midas' friends, family, or associates in one way or another.  Collin didn't understand how he knew so many people, yet hardly spoke to them and their relationship remained the same.

Collin could never know that many.  It was an idea he could not begin to fathom, for there were not many opportunities for Collin to make some friends for himself. Between cleaning the apartment flat and helping Midas with work, there was little time to explore anyway.

Collin sighed and hovered near the wall, getting comfortable. However, just as he did, an interruption occurred. He jumped and quickly straightened his posture, pretending as if he hasn't just been behaving unprofessionally a moment ago.
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"Good evening, Mr. Rivera." His voice was light, yet deep. His eyes were more welcoming than most of the guests, Collin noticed, as his frantic gaze locked eyes with a genuine smile on the man's face.

The man was someone whom Collin was most familiar with aside from Midas. He was around more often than anyone else at the silly party because he and Midas were long time friends. Collin wasn't entirely sure when they met, but he knew enough to know it had been more than a decade ago.

This man was the one and only Romero Cozzi, the one who single-handedly changed the modern industrial world.

"I am so sorry, I didn't mean to behave so unprofessionally," he rambled, "Mr. Cozzi, sir, how are you?"

The man let out a strange misplaced laugh. "Collin," he drawled, dropping the formalities, "This conversation is a bit too formal for my tastes! It would be absurd to act as if we are strangers to one another."

"Sorry-"

"No need to apologize," he smiled. His white teeth glimmered bright beneath the chandelier lights as he continued. "I'm surprised Midas isn't glued to your side."