It was pointless. Everyone in the world was trying to make a phone call at the same time. There was no way the system could handle it. Our phones just simply didn't work anymore. No real access to the internet, and every channel on the television indicated the same thing: The world was about to end. At first there were only five or ten of us in the hotel bar. I was alone in London, away from everyone I loved, especially my wife. There was no way this metropolis wasn't going to be the target of multiple missiles. I'd never see any of them again. I knew time was short; we all knew that time was short. The bartender moved a handful of bottles to the front of the bar, dropped his apron on the floor, and simply walked out. The black woman sitting next to me started to weep. I grabbed the nearest bottle and poured some into my glass.
At that moment I heard glass breaking and a commotion on the street. I looked out to see the inevitable riot starting outside. The woman looked up too. She turned back, put her head in her hands, and cried loudly. Her body shook. I, of course, had my own sorrows. I knew it was pointless, but in that moment I couldn't watch her fall to shambles right there in front of me. I slid over one seat, and put my arm around her shoulders. She instantly recoiled at a stranger's touch, and looked at me with a grimace. She saw the pain in my eyes too. In an instant she pulled my shoulders and buried her face in my chest and began sobbing. I closed my arms around her and stroked the back of her short black hair.
Again a loud sound and a commotion filled my ears. This wasn't from outside, but inside at the far end of the bar. Angry and fearful people were pouring into the bar, grabbing bottles and glasses. Someone threw an ashtray against the wall. I saw someone get pushed to the floor. I instantly realized that the situation was mere moments from getting out of control. I grabbed my new friend and nudged her toward the exit behind the bar. I grabbed a bottle of champagne off of the bar as we exited. She followed my lead and grabbed one herself.
We made our way through the kitchen and to a back hallway. There we encountered a young man sitting on the floor, crying and staring at a useless phone. His uniform indicated that he was part of the hotel staff. I guessed that he was approximately 20, and his hair and skin color indicated he was of interracial descent. He looked up at us and said, "I don't know what to do. I can't reach anyone."
"We don't know what to do either." I looked at my companion. I realized that I was speaking for us both. I didn't even know her name. Her eyes and a slight head nod indicated to me that it was okay.
"There's nothing to say or do, but if you don't want to be alone at the end you're welcome to join us." I swallowed hard.
With those words he took my hand, and I helped pull him off of the floor. We were now a party of three. "Where are you headed?" he asked.
"We have no idea, but it was about to get ugly in the bar. I thought we'd be best suited finding an empty room somewhere on the upper floors."
"I have a pass key. How does the penthouse sound to you?"
I nodded. It was as good a place to die as any. We went to a freight elevator in the back. He used his pass key to ride us all the way to the top floor. As the elevator doors opened we encountered what was becoming a common scene. A white woman in a tight black dress and high heels was sitting on the floor crying with a phone in her hands. Next to her stood a white man with anguish and frustration on his face. He was pleading with her. It was apparent that the room behind them belonged to him.
"You know that I love you. I've been in love with you for years. It's the end of the freaking world. Please." His eyes met mine as I came off the elevator. His gaze went back to her. I was of no interest to him.
"You don't understand, I just need to say goodbye. I haven't loved him for a very long time, but it can't end without..." Her voice stopped. She knew as well as the rest of us that it would end without her saying goodbye. It just wasn't possible now.
We walked passed them toward the end of the hall. She continued. "You know how I feel about you. But I can't be unfaithful."
"Unfaithful to who - to what? It's all over. Please. We have one night left. Hell, just a few hours at that. Don't waste anything else on him. He's not worth one more second of your time."
We opened the doors to the penthouse. I looked back at them. She was looking at him with desperation. She agreed with him, but just couldn't process what was going on. She looked at me. She was looking for an escape. "Is that the penthouse? What's it like in there?"
I waved her over. Her friend looked me over suspiciously and reluctantly followed her down the hall.
Unconsciously, the five of us arranged ourselves in a circle. My friend from the bar and I sat on the edge of the king size bed opposing the other three. The employee and the would-be boyfriend sat on either side of us in chairs. The lady in the dress sat opposite to us on a large leather ottoman. The employee looked at the clock behind me. "How much time do you think we have left?"
"Does it matter?" I asked. I got up from the bed and unplugged the clock, then walked to the large window that looked out on the city. I closed the curtains. No one needed to see the carnage below. For whatever time we had left, this room was all that was left of our world. And with the curtains closed, the lamp in the corner was the only light left in the world. I returned to my spot on the bed. The employee was finishing off the first bottle of champagne. We'd been passing it around the room along with all the other liquor we found in the penthouse. He set the empty bottle down next to his chair.
The despair in the room was thick, and for a long while no one said anything. Finally, I asked the employee his name. Around the room we went. The employee was Marcus. The dress was Erica. The boyfriend was Jon. My bar mate was Sarah. For a moment the ice was broken, but once again silence set in. Marcus leaned back in the chair, and then leaned forward reaching for the champagne. He seemed to have forgotten that it was empty. His hand struck the top but he was unable to grab it. It rolled away from him, fell on its side, and began to spin. It stopped spinning with the mouth pointing just passed me and directly at Sarah. She looked down at the bottle, stood up, walked directly over to Marcus, bent down, and planted a firm, full, open-mouth kiss on him.
He was obviously stunned for a moment, but in a split second it was obvious that he was kissing her back. After a few seconds she broke off the kiss, and walked confidently straight back to her original seat. She looked me in the eye. "I believe it's your turn."
I smiled at our spontaneous game, walked to the center of our circle and spun the bottle. It stopped pointing at the boyfriend, Jon. He said, "Well I guess you'll have to spin again."
I took a step toward him. "Are you sure about that." I smiled at him. He cringed. I laughed.
Erica looked up. "I'm the closest girl. I believe the honor is mine." She walked toward me. Jon scowled, I smiled at him, and then kissed her in the middle of the room. Her lips were sweet and soft and it was an oddly passionate kiss. Other than my wedding, I had never kissed anyone like this in the center of a staring group. This wasn't the type of kiss that you make on the altar. She pressed her body into mine. It was nice to feel her firm breasts against my chest. After a few seconds she pulled away. She looked back at Jon. "You don't know what you just missed out on."
She started to walk back to her ottoman but stopped after two steps. She returned back to the center of the room. "We're too old, and there's too little time left to play this kids game." She kicked the bottle out of the middle of the circle. It rolled across the room. Erica did a little pirouette. She had a little smirk on her face. She wasn't drunk, but she was definitely tipsy. We all were.
After a quick moment of a silly little sexy dance, she stared right at Marcus. She walked to him, sat on his lap and started grinding her ass into his crotch. He didn't react. I think Marcus was raised too well to immediately join in. Erica wasn't going to give in that quickly. She grabbed his hands and started running his hands along her thighs. He eventually got into the flow and his hands began to roam freely over her body.
Jon visibly tensed and started to walk toward them. Erica smiled at him. "Just give me a few more moments with this beautiful boy. I promise you that you'll get what you want." After a brief pause, she added "I want you too sweetie."
Her words seemed to relax him, and he held his ground. He was watching her. We all were. She reached behind her and undid her bra. She managed to slip it off without exposing her breasts from her dress. Marcus' hands moved more firmly along her thighs and up her sides. She grabbed his hands and directed them to her back. She leaned her back into his chest, looked up at him over her shoulder, and said, "Unzip me baby."
Marcus moved quickly to pull down the zipper on her dress. With the zipper no longer in place, the fabric of her dress was unable to hold her back. Amazing C-cup breasts spilled out as the top of the dress folded under their weight. Her eyes locked with Jon's. "Give me 10 more seconds and I'm all yours."
She again grabbed Marcus' hands and brought them to her chest. She used his hands to squeeze her breasts. She closed her eyes, let out a sigh and gently rolled her head back. When she brought her head back forward, she again found Jon's eyes, and said, "Now."
Jon took two strides and was upon them. Her hands went immediately to his belt and zipper. Marcus continued to massage her breasts. Her ass continued to undulate on his crotch. In a split second Jon's pants were down, his cock in her mouth, his hands on the back of her head, and her hands on his ass. I stared.
In my ear a soft English accent said, "You like to watch don't you?"
"Yes."
"That's a damn good show isn't it? You know I never did thank you."
"Thank me? For what?"
