They Mocked Me at the Reunion,Until They Discovered Who I Really Am

I'd been away from home for seven years. When I finally returned, it was because I'd been reassigned to the local level for field training.

As luck would have it, a high school reunion happened to fall right around the same time. I hadnt seen those people in years, and even though my current position made social gatherings complicated, I decided to attend anyway.

Most of my old classmates were doing quite well. Mercedes. BMWs. Audis. All respectable cars.

Unfortunately, the entire municipal motor pool had come down with food poisoning, so I was left without a driver. Since I intended to keep a low profile anyway, I simply took a taxi to the hotel and didnt even bring my secretary along.

Just my luckI was spotted the moment I stepped out of the cab. They immediately began mocking me, saying that after all those years buried in books, I still couldnt even afford a car.

Melvin Gilbert, who had arrived in a Bugatti Veyron, walked over, clapped me on the shoulder, and sneered.

Come work for my company, he said with open ridicule. I dont have any real positions for youmaybe janitorial. But Ill make sure you get a company car. At least then you can say you own one.

Fred Malone, who had never gotten along with me in high school, chimed in with a smirk.

Or you could go look up your ex-girlfriend. Sharon Pruitt is a Kunqu maestro nowrolling in money. Maybe then youll finally get your chance to drive a luxury car.

I only smiled faintly.

With my job, I said calmly, Ill never have the opportunity to drive a luxury car.

I'd been away from home for seven years. When I finally came back, it was because I'd been sent down to the local level for training.

A high school reunion happened to fall right around the same time. I hadn't seen these people in years, and even though my position now made socializing complicated, I decided to go anyway.

High schoolthat was real youth. First love, raw and unpolished. The grind of studying for college entrance exams. That kind of thing stays with you. So even though my current role made it inappropriate to sit and drink with businesspeople, I still went.

Unfortunately, the entire municipal motor pool had come down with food poisoning, which left me without a driver. But keeping a low profile was the plan anyway, so I hailed a cab and didn't even bring my secretary along.

Still, I knew the reality of my situation. My movements were a matter of serious concern. Every inch of the route to the hotel, and the hotel itself, would have plainclothes protection in place.

Before long, the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel.

I stepped out and spotted a cluster of people chatting animatedly near the entrancemy old classmates. The cars parked around them were respectable. Mercedes, BMWs, Audis. Their clothes were sharp, polished. Everyone seemed to be doing well for themselves.

That genuinely made me happy.

But just as I was about to walk over and say hello, someone recognized me first.

No one greeted me. They just stared, expressions strange, eyes glinting with something that looked a lot like mockery.

Then came the roar of an engineguttural, beastlike. A silver Bugatti Veyron swept into the parking lot.

A man climbed out. Custom-tailored suit. A flick of his wrist revealed a watch worth well over a million dollars. The kind of presence that demanded attention.

"Mr. Gilbert's here!"

"There you are! We've been talking about you all evening."

"Oh, and lookour old class genius showed up too. Came by taxi."

Not a single person so much as glanced my way. They swarmed toward him like moths to a flame.

This "Mr. Gilbert"Melvin Gilberthad been the biggest trust-fund kid in our class back in the day. He was also my old rival in love.

Melvin swept a dismissive glance over me, then pretended not to recognize me. "Who's this? Waitis that Jeremy Swanson? What are you wearing? You look worse than the waitstaff. And what's with that haircut?"

Did I really look that bad?

I was wearing a standard-issue government jacket. My hair was a simple, regulation side part. My job didn't exactly allow me to show up in a six-figure suit with a salon blowout.

"Jeremy, all those years buried in booksand this is what you have to show for it?"

"Look at the rest of us. Everyone's got a car. Even the worst off is driving an Audi A6. You can't even manage that?"

"Forget the caryou could've at least called a black car service."

"Showing up in a taxi is one thing, but he couldn't even bother to clean himself up."

From the moment I'd stepped out of that cab, the jabs hadn't stopped. You'd think I was their sworn enemy.

Melvin Gilbert walked up to me, clapped a hand on my shoulder, and let a sneer spread across his face.

"Tell you whatcome work at my company. I don't have any real positions for you. Janitorial, maybe. But I'll make sure you get a company car." He squeezed my shoulder. "At least then you can say you own a set of wheels."

I just smiled faintly.

"My line of work," I said, "means I'll never get to drive a luxury car."

"Or you could hit up your ex-girlfriend. Sharon Pruitt's a maestro of Kunqu opera nowrolling in money. Maybe she'd let you take a spin in a luxury car."

Fred Malone, Melvin's number-one lackey, swooped right in with the jab.

Sharon Pruitt...

She was the girl I'd had a crush on for three years in high school. We never actually datedthere might have been something between us, a kind of unspoken chemistrybut more than anything, we pushed each other to be better. I went from being a scrappy kid in middle school to the top scorer on the college entrance exam, and a lot of that was because of her.

Back then, Melvin had pursued Sharon relentlessly, and she'd turned him down every single time. That was the real reason he was always picking fights with me. But I was on track to be the top scorer in the province, so the school kept me well protected.

"Watch your mouth!"

Melvin was the one who snapped first, glaring at Fred. "Sharon and I have been in close contact lately. I asked her about Jeremy, and she made it very clearshe has nothing to do with him anymore. Doesn't even want to be associated with him."

Fred jumped right in. "I mean, look at the state of him. I wouldn't keep in touch either."

I let out a sigh. I wanted to leave.

People always say class reunions are the ultimate arena for showing off and getting humiliated. I hadn't taken it too seriously. My college classmates and the people from my advanced training courses were all pretty normal, after all.

When I didn't respond, Fred kept going. "Don't be too broken up about losing Sharon. You'll never get behind the wheel of Mr. Gilbert's Bugatti, but my Bentley's worth over three hundred grandI could lend it to you for a drive. At least then you could say you've been in a luxury car."

I just smiled faintly. "With my job, I'll never get the chance to drive a luxury car."

As if.

If I drove a luxury car today, I'd be trending by tomorrow: Official overseeing Stratford's Metro Line 4 and Old City redevelopment spotted in luxury vehicle.

"Well, at least you know your place."

Fred sneered.

I gave them both a polite smile. "I just came by to see everyone. Now I have, so I won't keep you. I'll head out."

I turned to leave.

But Melvin shot Fred a look, and Fred stepped into my path.

He shoved my shoulder, not bothering with pleasantries. "Where the hell do you think you're going? Mr. Gilbert didn't say you could leave. You stay right here."

I'm six-one and I've never stopped working out. He couldn't budge me an inch. But the disrespect crawled under my skin.

Melvin chimed in. "Don't go, Jeremy. Sharon's coming later. Don't you want to see her?"

"She never said she was coming."

The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

"Why would she tell you whether she's coming or not?"

Fred scoffed. "Sharon Pruitt is a Kunqu maestro now. I can't even get her on WhatsApp. Only Mr. Gilbert has the connections to stay in touch with someone like that. What makes a nobody like you think you're even on her radar?"

"Sharon's actually my wife. We have kidstwins, a boy and a girl."

"And I work in city planning. I'm the lead on Metro Line 4 and the Old City redevelopment project."

I laid my cards on the table. Not because I wanted to show off or shut anyone downI was just tired of the endless humiliation.

The moment the words left my mouth, silence fell over the group. Then they erupted into laughter.

Every single one of them howled like they'd just heard the funniest stand-up bit of their lives, tears practically streaming down their faces.

"You've got the nerve to spin a lie that big? Now I definitely can't let you leave."

"You're staying right here. When Sharon shows up, I want to see you say that to her face."

Melvin was grinning ear to ear.

So much for leaving.

I resigned myself to it. If they were hell-bent on a bitter pill, I'd let them swallow it.

There was no point explainingthey'd never believe me anyway.

Still, I couldn't help myself. "Look at how I'm dressed. Don't I look like someone who works in city government?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha..."

"What, you throw on a blazer and slick your hair into a side part, and suddenly you're some government big shot?"

"By that logic, I could buy a royal robe and call myself king!"

Fred was the first to burst out laughing.

Just as I expected.

They'd never believe me.

I shook my head with a resigned smile and decided not to bother arguing.

Someone in the group spoke up. "Mr. Gilbert, when are we going inside? Why are we waiting out here?"

"Do you even know where we are?"

"This is The Grandview Pavilion. Even someone of Mr. Gilbert's status has to make a reservation and wait in line."

"The fact that he got us all in to see the placethat alone shows how much pull he has."

Fred let out a derisive laugh.

"The Grandview Pavilionwhat's the big deal about it?"

"I've been away for a long time and only recently came back. I'm not really up to speed on these things."

The same person asked again.

This time, Fred kept his mouth shut. It was Melvin's turn to show off.

Melvin flashed a cryptic smile and leaned back against his Bugatti Veyron, lighting a cigarette.

"The Grandview Pavilion, in principle, isn't open to the public."

"When this place was built, the owner designed it specifically for entertaining distinguished guests."

"Or when the city government lands a major investment deal during trade summitsthey'll host the reception here."

"Forget meeven my father doesn't have the clout to get a membership card to this place."

At this point, Melvin glanced at me with a half-smile. "The only reason I'm here today is because Sharon lent me her membership card. Otherwise, neither my father nor I would have the standing to bring people here."

"What?"

"Sharon lent you something that important?"

"Mr. Gilbert, you need to step up your game! I think you and Sharon actually have a shot!"

Fred said this with exaggerated enthusiasm.

I knew it was aimed at me, but I didn't feel like arguing anymore.

"I hope so. I'll keep trying," Melvin said with a modest smile. Then his expression shifted to something almost reverent. "You probably don't realize this, but the owner of this place has connections that go all the way to the top. He's got ties in the capitalit's no exaggeration to say his voice reaches the highest corridors of power. If I could get on his good side, our family's entire business empire could level up overnight."

"The owner's connections aren't that impressive," I said casually.

"Oh, you know him?" Fred sneered. "Honestly, Swanson, if you actually knew the owner of this place, you wouldn't be dressed like that and showing up in a cab."

"There's got to be a limit to the bullshit you spew."

Melvin shot me a sidelong look. "Swanson, if the owner heard you running your mouth like this, all it would take is one word from him, and you'd never work anywhere in this country again. Do you have the slightest clue how the upper echelons operate?"

"Mr. Gilbert, you said it yourselfupper echelons. How would a bottom-feeder like him know anything about that?" Fred scoffed.

I sighed and walked off to the side to smoke.

Their worldview was limited. The circles they moved in were limited. That was exactly why they didn't believe a word I said.

My return to work wasn't exactly a secret, but it hadn't been publicized either. At their level, they had no idea where I stood now.

I wasn't going to waste energy on it. I just wanted to get through this as quickly as possible and never see any of them again.

That was when a Maserati pulled up. Pink.

The door swung open, and a woman with long legs in black stockings stepped out.

Even Melvin dropped everything and rushed over the moment he saw her.

"Nancy Galloway! You made it!"

"I wasn't sure you'd have time to come."

Melvin was practically groveling. It was obvioushis car might have been worth more, but his status didn't come close to this woman's.

Nancy didn't spare him a glance. She ignored everyone with an icy indifference, her gaze landing squarely on me.

I turned my head away, eyes down, smoking.

Then I heard the click of heels drawing closer, and that cloying sweetness of her perfume drifted in with each step.

She stopped right in front of me, reached out without a shred of hesitation, and gripped my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes.

"Jeremy Swanson. Back in the day, I was crazy about you. I followed you everywhere. And you chose Sharon Pruitt."

"So how's that working out?"

"You can't even afford a car, and Sharon's already cut you loose."

Nancy clenched her jaw and squeezed my face harder. "It's not too late, you know. Come back to me. You wouldn't have to marry into anyone's family. Just say the wordI'll file for divorce today and marry you instead."

Back in high school, I'd had my share of admirers. Nancy had been the most relentless of them all.

She wasn't even in our class, but she showed up every single day just to be near me.

"Cut it out," I said. "You've got kids now. What are you even talking about?"

I brushed her hand away.

Nancy let out a short huff. Clearly, the offer had been more bluster than anything real.

Still, there was no mistaking the resentment underneath it.

"If I were you, Jeremy, I wouldn't have come to this reunion at all. You're just going to get humiliated."

Melvin jogged over, obviously eager to perform for Nancy's benefit.

I said nothing and kept smoking.

When I didn't react, Melvin turned to Nancy instead. "Nancy, don't tell me you actually came here for Jeremy?"

"No."

"Sharon and I were romantic rivals, sure, but we've stayed in touch online. We actually get along pretty well."

"I talked with her for a while last night. She promised she'd come today, and she said she'd introduce me to the owner of this place."

Nancy's tone was cool, almost disinterested.

"Really?"

"Nancy, come onwe're all old classmates. Put in a word for me too?"

Melvin jumped at the chance.

Nancy shrugged. "That's not my call. You'll have to ask Sharon."

"Sharon and I are on great terms," Melvin boasted. "She even lent me her Grandview Pavilion membership card."

Nancy gave him a look but didn't bother responding. Instead, she nudged me with the toe of her shoe. "Give me a cigarette."

I handed one over.

Nancy took it and, out of habit, glanced at the brand. Then she clicked her tongue. "A 329? These aren't easy to come by. Where'd you get them?"

"Company perk," I said with a smile.

Melvin scoffed. "Fake, probably."

"Could be," I said, nodding.

Just then, the doors of the Grandview Pavilion swung opennot a side entrance, but the grand central doors.

The Pavilion's doors followed a strict protocol. Ordinary guests used the side entrances. The central doors only opened for distinguished visitors.

So when those massive doors parted with full ceremony, every head turned.

As they swung wide, staff rolled out a red carpet.

A portly man in a traditional silk jacket emerged, a folding fan in one hand, flanked by an entourage. He strode out with the easy confidence of someone who owned every square inch of the ground beneath him.

Melvin's eyes went wide. He straightened his clothes in a hurry. "Someone important must be arriving. The owner of the Grandview Pavilion is personally opening the central doors to greet them?"

Nancy stubbed out the cigarette she'd just lit. Even she looked tense. "Everyone straighten up," she snapped. "Don't you dare embarrass me."

Everyone straightened their clothes, their expressions turning solemn.

Nancy was about to walk over and greet the owner of The Grandview Pavilion when the man himself started heading in our direction.

Nancy and Melvin rushed to meet him, their smiles impossibly wide.

I stayed where I was, leaning against a car, cigarette still burning between my fingers.

The owner of The Grandview Pavilion jogged over with a smile on his face.

When Melvin saw I hadn't gotten up, he smacked the back of my head and snapped, "Get on your feet!"