"It's cool," I say.

"Victor, what are you doing here?"

I hold up the hat.

"Yeah?" he asks. "Really?"

"Hey, I heard about Junior Vasquez DJ'ing tonight," I say, elegantly changing the subject.

Damien sighs tiredly. "Great. Isn't it?"

"How did that happen?"

"On the record?"

I nod.

"Some special-events impresario called," Damien says. "And-voila."

"Can I ask you a question?" I start, feeling daring.

"What is it?"

"Where did you guys meet? I mean, you and Lauren."

He downs the tequila, gently places the glass back on the bar and frowns.

"I met her while we were both having dinner with the world's richest people."

"Who?"

"We're not allowed to give out these names."

"Oh."

"But you'd know them", Damien says. "You wouldn't be surprised."

"Cool."

"Hint: they just spent the weekend at Neverland Ranch."

"Would you like a Mentos?" I ask.

"I need a favor, Victor."

"I'd do anything for you, man."

"Please don't grovel."

"Sorry."

"Will you take Lauren with you to the opening tonight?" Damien asks. "She won't come otherwise. Or if she does she's threatening to come with f**king Skeet Ulrich or Olivier Martinez or Mickey Hardt or Daniel Day-fucking-Lewis."

"That would be cool", I consider. "I mean if we could get Daniel Day-Lewis-"

"Hey", he snaps. "Watch it."

"Oh yeah. My apologies."

Damien still has traces of this morning's mud mask next to his right ear. I reach out and flick a speck gently away.

"What's that?" he asks, flinching.

"Mud?" I guess.

He sighs. "It's shit, Victor. It's all shit."

I pause. "You had... shit on your face?" I ask. "Whoa, dude. Don't go there."

"No. My life, Victor. My whole f**king life. It's all shit."

"Why, guy?" I ask. "When did this massive dumping occur?"

"I have a girlfriend, Victor," Damien says, staring straight at me.

"Yeah-" I stop, confused. "Alison?"

"No. Alison's my fiancee. Lauren's the girlfriend."

"You guys are engaged?" I gasp involuntarily and when I try to hide the gasp, I gasp again. "Oh, I knew that, dude. Um, I knew that."

Damien's face hardens. "How did you know that?" he asks. "Nobody knows that."

Pause, then semi-effortlessly, in a tight voice while holding my breath, out comes: "Man oh man this town, guy."

Damien seems too depressed to not accept this. A long pause.

"You mean," I start, "like getting-married engaged?"

"That's usually what it means."

"So I've heard," I murmur.

"When did you and Lauren get so close?" he asks suddenly.

"I really don't know her at all, Damien," I say, squeezing the hat. "She's a friend of Chloe's."

"She said she went to school with you," he mutters. "She said you were-and don't take this the wrong way-a total ass**le."

"I won't take that the wrong way."

"I can see that your self-esteem is pretty high today, huh?"

"It's funny-I thought she went to school with you, man." I chuckle lamely to myself, bowing a little, eyes half-closed. "Didn't you guys go to school together, m-man?"

"Victor, I've got a f**king migraine. Just, y'know, don't." He closes his eyes, reaches for the Patron, stops himself. "So-will you do it? Will you take her?"

"I'm... taking Chloe."

"Just take Lauren with you guys." His beeper goes off. He checks it. "Shit. It's Alison. I've gotta go. Tell Lauren goodbye. And I'll see you at the club."

"Tonight's the night," I say.

"I think it'll work," he says. "I think it won't be a disaster."

"We'll see, man." Damien reaches out his hand. Instinctively I shake it. Then he's gone.

I'm standing in the living room, taking a long time to notice Lauren leaning in the doorway.

"I heard everything," she murmurs.

"That's probably more than I heard," I murmur back.