Patient B-2

Chapter Three: Avalyn

Dressed to the nines in attire that commands attention and whispers of opulence, Idalia and I make our entrance into the world of the WWA auction. Each of us adorned in a dress that costs more than a house payment, we exude an air of confidence and sophistication befitting the occasion. Yet, beneath the veneer of glamour and luxury, there lies an undercurrent of uncertainty. We are going in blind, lacking crucial information about the nature of the auction and the goods being sold. It's a risk that some might deem reckless, but for us, it's a calculated gamble.

We approach the guard with a confident stride, his imposing figure clad in a sharp tuxedo and suit pants. Despite his polished appearance, the subtle bulge of a concealed weapon is unmistakable. "What section?" he asks, his voice gruff and authoritative, betraying no hint of warmth or hospitality.

Idalia, ever the master of charm and persuasion, attempts to disarm him with a flirtatious smile and playful demeanor. "The best one," she replies, her voice laced with a hint of flirtation as she twirls a lock of hair between her fingers, her gaze meeting his with an alluring intensity.

But her attempt to play coy falls flat, her usual tactics failing to sway the guard's resolve. With a weary sigh, he repeats his question, his tone firm and unyielding. "What section?"

With a roll of her eyes, Idalia reaches for her ID, her movements fluid and confident. I observe with keen interest as her finger strategically obscures her first name, leaving only the crucial information visible. "I'm a Wellington," she announces, a hint of pride coloring her words as she flashes a confident smile. "Best watch how you speak to me."

The guard's demeanor remains impassive as he brushes off Idalia's declaration, his focus shifting to the task at hand. With a deliberate motion, he leans down to inspect her ID, his eyes scanning the information before coming to rest on her hand. "You got a ring?" he inquires, his tone casual yet tinged with curiosity.

Idalia smoothly retrieves her ID, slipping it back into her handbag with practiced ease. "Does it look like I'm wearing any rings, Mister?" she retorts, her tone laced with subtle sarcasm as she gestures to her bare fingers.

The guard, visibly agitated by her response, responds with an impatient eye roll before finally relenting and ushering us inside. As we step past him and into the heart of the auction, I can't help but feel a surge of curiosity about the exchange. Leaning in close to Idalia, I whisper, "What was that about?"

"No idea, but who cares? We're in," she declares, her confidence unwavering as she raises her chin defiantly and saunters forward.

I stay in step behind Idalia, keeping pace with the crowd as we make our way towards the entrance. It's clear that there's only one entrance that everyone is flocking towards, the anticipation palpable in the air as we inch closer to our destination. As we step into the room, I'm taken aback by the transformation that lies before us. What appeared to be a broken-down warehouse from the outside has been converted into a sprawling auditorium, its vast expanse stretching out before us.

We find ourselves on the lowest level, surrounded by stadium-style seats. A few steps lead up to these seats, but my eyes are drawn to the large overhang balcony that looms overhead, offering a commanding view of the entire bottom floor. Despite my best efforts, I can't spot a staircase that leads up to the balcony, leaving its accessibility a mystery. Meanwhile, my attention is captivated by the stage, which takes center at the front of the room, its imposing presence commanding the attention of all who enter.

As I take in the sights and sounds of the auditorium, I can't help but marvel at the ingenuity of its design and the meticulous attention to detail that went into its construction. It's a testament to the grandeur and extravagance of the auction and a stark reminder of the power and influence wielded by its organizers.