“Wait a minute,” he says, and leaves the arcade. When he comes back, he tells me that if I want the money, I have to come with him, now.

“I really don’t want to.”

“See ya later, Clay,” Julian says.

“Wait …”

“What’s wrong? You wanna come or not? You want your money or not?”

“Why do we have to do it this way?”

“Because,” is all Julian says.

“Is there any other way we can work this out?”

Pause.

“Julian?”

“Do you want your money or not?”

“Julian.”

“Do you want your money or not, Clay?”

“Yeah.”

“Then come on, let’s go.”

We leave the arcade.

Finn’s apartment is on Wilshire Boulevard, not too far away from Rip’s penthouse. Julian says he’s known Finn for six, maybe seven months, but from the look on Julian’s face I get the feeling that he’s been going to Finn’s apartment a lot longer than that, for too long. The parking attendant knows his car and lets him park it in the Loading Zone Only section. Julian waves at the doorman sitting on a couch. To get to Finn’s place, we take the elevator and Julian presses P for Penthouse. The elevator’s empty and Julian starts to sing some old Beach Boys song, really loudly, and I lean against the wall of the elevator and take a deep breath as it comes to a stop. I can make out my reflection, blond hair cut too short, a deep tan, sunglasses still on.

We walk through the darkness of the hall to get to Finn’s door and Julian rings the bell. The door’s opened by a boy, maybe fifteen, with bleached-blond hair and the tan, tough looks of most of the surfers at Venice or Malibu. The boy who’s only wearing gray shorts, and who I recognize as the boy who was leaving Rip’s apartment the day Rip was supposed to meet me at Cafe Casino, and he stares at us malevolently as we walk in. I wonder if this is Finn or if Finn is sleeping with this surfer and the thought makes me tense and my stomach falls a little. Julian knows where Finn’s “office” is, where Finn does his business. I start to get suspicious for some reason and nervous. Julian comes to a white door and opens it and the two of us walk into a totally spare, totally white room, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows and mirrors on the ceiling and this feeling of vertigo washes over me and I almost have to catch my balance. I notice that I can see my father’s penthouse in Century City from this room and I get paranoid and start to wonder if my father can see me.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s my best boy.” Finn’s sitting behind a large desk and is maybe twenty-five, thirty, blond, tan, unremarkable looking. The desk is empty except for a phone and an envelope with Finn’s name on it and two small silver vials. The only other thing sitting on the desk is this glass paperweight with a small fish trapped in it, its eyes staring out helplessly, almost as if it was begging to be freed, and I start to wonder, If the fish is already dead, does it even matter?

“Who’s this?” Finn asks, smiling at me.

“He’s a friend of mine. Name is Clay. Clay, this is Finn.” Julian shrugs, distracted.

Finn checks me out and smiles again and then turns to Julian.

“How did everything go last night?” Finn asks, still smiling.

Julian pauses and then says, “Okay, fine,” and looks down.

“Fine? That’s all? Jason called me today and said that you were fantastic. Really tops.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. Really. He really digs you.”

I begin to feel weak, walk around the room, search my pocket for a cigarette.

Another pause and then Julian coughs.

“Well, kid, if you’re not too busy today, you’ve got an appointment at four at the Saint Marquis with some business guy from outta town. And then tonight at Eddie’s party, okay?”

Finn stares at Julian and then looks at me.

“You know what?” He starts tapping his fingers on the desk. “You bringing your friend here might be a good thing. Guy at the Saint Marquis wants two guys. One just to watch, of course, but Jan is out at the Colony and might not be back .…”

I look at Finn and then over at Julian.

“No, Finn. He’s a friend,” Julian says. “I owe him money. That’s why I brought him by.”

“Listen, I can wait,” I say, realizing somehow that it’s too late and adrenaline starts to rush through me.

“Why don’t you two guys go?” Finn says, looking me over. “Julian, take your friend.”