Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: RECORD (04/22/21)
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TITLE: A High Price to Pay | Previous Challenge Entry
By Samuel Kane
04/29/21 -
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The small crowd’s ears pricked at the subtle grating sound of the cardboard softly sliding against the large plastic disk. A short silence, broken only by the brief scratching of the needle, and then the drum fill led into the classic rock and roll track.
“Easy Money: the opening number to Billy Joel’s 1983 “Innocent Man” album, a ten-song homage to the doo-wop and soul music of Joel’s youth. I’m sure you’re all familiar with it.”
The powerful saxophone sang out.
Mr Jacobson look upon the faces of his guests: bankers, and businessmen, stockbrokers, salesmen, and CEOs. They represented a segment of the highest members of society: all slightly dazed as they took yet another swig of the golden liquid swirling in their glasses.
Through the wall he could hear some revellers throwing themselves into his pool. A group of eager young women flowed through the crowd, searching for rich men to latch upon: there were plenty around. In the floor below them lay the main event, a set of privately owned casino tables: endless opportunity and endless risk to either grow or decimate your wealth. That’s the sort of excitement that kept people coming to such social gatherings. They had all that wealth; they might as well enjoy the benefits of it.
“Gentlemen, to easy money.”
That night sailed defiantly upon waves of excitement until the early hours of the morning.
The record kept spinning.
Mr Jacobson stumbled towards the elevator to his Wall Street office, sunglasses pulled down over his bloodshot eyes. He passed Richards, his ambitious VP, in the corridor, his head similarly tilted away from the light. The night had been full of wild excitement, but there was a high price to pay for such intense jollification. That said, business was good: he could afford the bill.
Many months passed and so did many more nights of wild excitement.
“The mark of success,” Jacobson thought to himself, “must be when half your guests are complete strangers.” He chuckled to himself.
He ducked inside his personal office, in an attempt to escape briefly the bombardment of guest greetings and the cacophony of drunken chanting. Letting his fingers gently run along the rows of records upon his shelf. He located the Joel album and mounted it upon his record player. The title track describes an individual living an unapologetically bold life, refusing to be ruled by their fears and insecurities, but had he gone too far? Each party had to outshine the last one if he were to progress his reputation. Yet what was the point of it? Why did he have to indulge in such extravagancies? That said, business was good: he could afford such wild nights, right?
Jacobson tapped nervously at the desk. This was the third time this quarter that he’d had to take out a loan. A multitude of questions span chaotically around his brain. Why had sales rates taken such a downturn? What had compelled him to keep spending? Would he be able to pull back from this one?
Jacobson found himself before a judge, staring down into his soul. Evidently, they did not appreciate his dilemma, nor his methods to address it. Some people called him a fraud, a money-launderer, an amoral monster. Yet, who cared what they thought? Desperate times called for desperate measures, and he couldn’t see anything explicitly wrong with simply trying to survive. That said, he had friends in high places and their business was good. Surely one of them would come to his aid and pay off his crimes.
Nobody did.
Mr Richards look upon the faces of his guests: bankers, and businessmen, stockbrokers, salesmen, and CEOs. They represented a segment of the highest members of society: all slightly dazed as they took yet another swig of the golden liquid swirling in their glasses.
The record kept spinning.
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