Sunny's residence was a beautiful two-story villa at the end of a dead-end street, with a lovely green garden surrounding it. The building itself had a reminiscent touch of baroque architecture, featuring huge windows and intricate decorations between them, even if it was a much more recent construction.
A large arched set of stairs led towards the entry door, while to the left, a small private path led to the subterranean garage. As the taxi had to wait for the entry, the scene felt like something out of those movies portraying sixteenth-century nobility and their extravagant parties, with carriages lining up to let the guests disembark.
A swarm of people from the catering company welcomed and guided us, and I soon realized that my costume idea hadn't been that inspired. It was black and white, the same colors as the uniforms of the catering company personnel.
After passing the entry hall, we proceeded to the garderobe to unload any additional baggage. We were then given tags with the names we chose to be addressed. Additionally, if desired, the tags could be set up to share our contact information with any mobiles equipped with the appropriate app, providing an excellent opportunity to make new acquaintances—something Lola promptly arranged with the receptionist.
The main hall was incredibly spacious, and even with about forty to fifty people inside, it seemed only half full. There were numerous stand-up round tables with refreshments, as well as corners equipped with leather benches, armchairs, and small tables, allowing groups to form and entertain themselves freely. Information about the schedule could be downloaded directly to your mobile or obtained from leaflets on the tables.
I hadn't imagined that Sunny was so wealthy, or at least that he led such a lavish lifestyle. The opulence surrounding him could make you question your life choices.
The party gradually gained momentum. Two live bands performed intermittently, and a high-quality in-house stereo system allowed you to enjoy good music in any corner without interference. Some guests arrived by helicopter, and one even descended from a blimp. Eventually, it became clear that a stuntman was used for the flight, and the actual guest took their place upon landing.
The house was organized based on various scenes from the game, with each part resembling a dungeon or region, complete with corresponding names. There was, for instance, the Sylvanian Saloon, where even the waitstaff were tall elves, and the Brogghafter Tavern, which was filled with goblins serving various goblin drinks.
It was there that we encountered Sunny, who inquired if we were enjoying the party and if everything was satisfactory. He was exuberant, talking non-stop and making jokes, all the while being filmed by a cameraman. After he left, I shook my head in disbelief. What kind of life is it to have every minute of your existence captured on film? I couldn't help but wonder if they give him a break when he goes to the toilet.
Lola thoroughly enjoyed herself, actively participating in various games. She made excellent use of her name tag, which had already garnered fifty-nine downloads of her profile. She also followed several live feeds from the party, excitedly showing me a couple of them where we had been filmed. The feeds were saved and could be rewound and viewed repeatedly, a feature she took full advantage of whenever she discovered something related to us.
Stolen story; please report.
There were even several drones sending feeds from the air. It was an impressive setup, and I started to grasp the level of Cara's work, Sunny's assistant.
As the evening progressed, I grew tired and retired to the orc's corner to enjoy a glass of apple juice with something undefinable in it and sold as troll mojo.
My big moment was scheduled for about an hour in the future, and I wanted to ensure I didn't look too tired or indisposed by then.
As I looked up, I noticed Cara walking by with a security guard disguised as a troll. Yes, all the security personnel were trolls.
As our eyes met, I waved at her, but I sensed something was amiss. She appeared disturbed and didn't wave back but acknowledged me. I was wondering if something wasn't going smoothly with the party and whether we needed to adjust the singer unveiling part, as I saw her making a beeline for me. Without much introduction, she showed me her tablet.
In an irate tone, she demanded, “Excuse me, can you tell me if this is real, or is it a bad joke? Somebody pretends that it belongs to you!”
I was taken aback by the tone and attitude. Even if they owned the place, I expected a more polite encounter. Raising an eyebrow, I looked at the tablet. It displayed a link to one of the chatrooms linked to the party. In parallel, there were some live feeds from the party, but in the center, there was an image of an ID. A surprised, embarrassed, and tired face looked back at me from that ID—my face from my prostitute license.
I sighed. “There should be some privacy protection in this country; this is not public information!” – I said.
She nodded, answering with a tired voice. Evidently, the irritation was not meant for me.
“True, I was not sure, as Sunny did not recognize your face, but somebody did link it to our party and pretended that it is yours. If it is yours, this is a catastrophe. Unfortunately, I have to ask you to leave the facility immediately.”
“Why?” - I wondered.
“Prostitutes are forbidden from entering the borough; it is not allowed to order prostitutes inside here!" - the security guard beside her answered, closing the distance between us, but Cara stopped him, placing her hand in front of him.
“We can debate that you were not called in such a quality, but this is not the line of defense we want to go with.” – Cara said. “You can have a look at the conversation in the chatroom if you have good nerves. We'd rather say it was a mistake and you left.”
I huffed. Is this shit going to follow me everywhere? Those guys at the police station assured me that nobody would have access to my info, that it was something I only needed to care about in case I did 'that business,' so how come I was confronted with it there? Besides, prostitutes were forbidden to practice their trade in the areas, but that did not mean they were forbidden from physically going there.
“As if all those wannabe models and call girls are much better! I have seen at least a dozen escort girls here.” - I said.
Cara shrugged.
“Escort girls are allowed. Please don't make a scene unless you really want to get thrown out by force?” - she said, looking at me with uncertain eyes.
Normally, I would have started to cry, and they would have had to carry me out. The humiliation and degradation were beyond what I would have been able to bear. I know myself, and I know how I would have reacted were I still one hundred percent Dolores. But I was no longer her.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
We planned to unmask the singer, eh? This was now a hell of an unmasking. Well done, Lores! Not exactly as planned, but it probably got more attention on the net even without any official announcement. I congratulated myself for the successful PR coup while the security guard placed his hand on my shoulder.
I looked at his hand and then at Cara.
“I'll leave. Please tell your trolls not to touch me, or we'll have a problem.” – I told Cara.
The troll huffed, and the hand on my shoulder tried to squeeze harder, but I ignored it, and Cara pushed him away.
“Let me accompany you!” - she said.
As I stood up, I asked her about Lola. “What about my partner?”
She shrugged. “I've already met her on the way to you, but she asked if she could stay. Sunny does not see anything wrong with that. Is she also a...”
I shook my head in negation.
Okay, Lola gets to have her party after all. I felt a little bit betrayed, but I can understand that she does not want to be pictured with me now. As I walked towards the exit, I asked myself how the hell did this happen? Somebody must have gotten inside the police computers and searched for my name, but this was a tremendous breach of privacy. Another two security guards joined us on the way; it was obvious that they had been searching for me, and now I got a hell of an entourage leading me out. And, of course, a lot of pictures were taken on the way.