Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Chapter 3 begins

     After taking in all he could consume Xavier paid his bill leaving his waiter and hostess a generous tip. Slowly he made his way to the front door where, once again, the attentive doormen opened up the modern glass doors of the old hotel for him. One offered Xavier a cigarette after his meal, but he declined saying "No, smoking ages you horribly."
     "Now sir, you can't be more than twenty, why so concerned about looking old. You're young. You have your entire life ahead of you." the doormen exclaimed as he looked at the tall, young, athletic man, with broad shoulders, dark eyes and jet black hair.
     "No, I am only 19." Xavier replied as the other doorman hailed a taxi for the young lad.
     "Well you are the biggest 19 year old I've ever seen." the doorman laughed. "Isn't Polo your sport?" he remembered correctly. Xavier simply smiled and shook his head yes. "Well then, good luck at your next match and enjoy your time out on the town tonight." the doorman said imparting words of good cheer as the young, handsome Argentine set off, headed to Haymarket Street in Piccadilly Circus. Now, after his delicious meal, he wanted some good whiskey and a pint of McEwan's.
     Now the first pub he went to had excellent whiskey and Scottish Ale, however, the lack of attractive women was not well received by Xavier. For the new, emerging punk scene had filtrated to street fashion and Xavier himself could find no appreciation for tattooed women, nose rings and safety pins, nor the ripped stockings, black eyes, black lips, black nails, nor mohawks and shaved heads. No, Xavier Antonio de la Rosa Diaz preferred a different class of women. He was only attracted to beautiful women who were tall and had skin that was smooth and clean like raw silk, with long silky hair and soft full lips with a shining smile, and bright eyes. He preferred these women be in short skirts and high heels and have tiny waists and big dreams. Now these are exactly the types of women Xavier found at a new bar that had opened across Haymarket Street called, Tiger!Tiger! Xavier was deeply intrigued, as he stepped in completely distracted by the mass of beautiful, affluent young women and he felt more relaxed and comfortable with this crowd of people.
     As Xavier eyed the room, looking for his target amongst all the pretty, fresh, flesh he failed to notice three men who had spotted him from across the crowded room. Had Xavier been paying attention he would have instantly recognized the three men, who were the members of the opposing team at the St.Regis Cup; which they won, of course, as Xavier had forced his team to be disqualified in disgrace. These men were still seething, for their team captain would never ride, nor stand, or walk again. Their captain was not only their team leader but he was also a good friend. Now, as human rage does, their thoughts were all of one accord, and that was of, Revenge.

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