Jack was ecstatic. It had been many pay checks saved - and many weeks practically starving - before he achieved his financial goal: a trip to Vegas. He probably could have gone sooner if he hadn't been trying for a specific casino: The Chimaera. The brand new hotel and casino was set around a supernatural theme and had been slated to open later that year, but was opening its doors for one night only as a charity event.

Jack had managed to persuade the organiser to hold a ticket for him, having given her a long winded story about trying to get to Vegas for years but other things always coming up at the last minute. Perhaps it was his determination or the knowledge of the supernatural he showed in his plea, but the organiser had agreed to reserve a single ticket for the man under the condition that he could pay before the date. And sure enough, one week before the event was to be held, Jack made the call.

Jack spent the following week in a daze, elated at his success and fearful of what might happen. It was a lot of money, and part of him began to worry that the event might not hold up to his expectations. By Friday he had his bag packed, his suit for the ball had been pressed, and his most expensive shoes - which nowadays he only wore on job interviews - were shined and safely stowed in the suitcase. He breathed a sigh of release. All he had to do was catch the plane and he was set.

Saturday morning rolled around and Jack made sure to be at the airport well in advance. He had arrived at his gate two hours and three planes prior to the boarding call. Carrying only the bag with his masque for the ball - having checked everything else - he made his way onto the plane. All he had to do now was sit back, relax, change at Dallas and soon he'd be enjoying the Vegas lights.

Dallas was the start of his problems. Due to a horrible crosswind, his flight there arrived late, giving him a ten minute window to catch his connecting flight. A window the angry woman several seats ahead of him used up while chewing out the flight staff for some thing or another. Several hours and lots of complaining, arguing and begging with the booking office, Jack dipped into the spending money he'd reserved for enjoying the Vegas strip to get himself on the next flight there.

That flight went more smoothly, however upon landing it became quickly evident that his luggage had somehow been lost to the underworld of airport baggage claim. With the light dwindling, and with none of his dress clothes Jack gave the airport service desk his phone number in case his luggage turned up and set off towards his hotel.

After a short and thankfully uneventful taxi ride, he arrived at Jack's Shack. It was one of the cheaper alternatives to staying at the grander casinos, which he had chosen due to the unfinished sections at The Chimaera being the hotel rooms and guest areas outside the main ballroom and gambling areas. The motel had a Hawaiian theme - it seemed to Jack that every establishment in Vegas required a theme - and was a short walk from the casino. It also had a terrible reception, one that managed to overbook. Again Jack pleaded, sighed and left without a satisfying resolution.

He tapped his satchel containing the masque. It was still a couple hours until the ball, and he was suitless, roomless, showerless and losing faith in the weekend. "No. Not giving up." He mumbled to himself as he began pacing the strip, looking for suit hire signs. It seemed each one he came across was either priced well out of his reach - a couple hundred dollars worth of his Vegas money remaining - or so visibly ghastly that to wear one would be social suicide. Though the latter option was becoming more and more valid as the Sky grew dark.

Jack's mobile went off, the alarm set back when the day was more promising as a way of getting his attention away from a blackjack table, or swimming pool to get ready for the charity event. Now it found him out of breath, sweating, sore and tired while desperately searching for a suit that fit and wasn't too pricey or ugly. Mashing the screen to turn off the alarm Jack looked up to see the shop he was in front of advertised itself as one of those massive pawn shops; no doubt making a considerable amount of cash from those trying to get a few more bucks because 'the big win is just around the corner'.

Racing to the back fast enough to cause the shop staff concern he rifled through the suits there. And on the third rack, right at the back he saw it. The suit was a deep indigo, or appeared so when away from the light. But as he pulled it out, its surface shifted and shone with an iridescence one would usually see in peacock feathers or oil spills. Jack smiled and turned, practically bowling over the staff member coming to see what was going on. After helping them up he quickly made his way to the counter. "I'll have this one please."

"Dat'd be A Hunned Niney Fahve." The clerk stated, her thick accent combined with the cost to knock the man for six. He checked the tag. She was right. Jack stood blinking, trying to think his way through it. Buying the suit meant no gambling. But not buying the suit meant no charity event. He sighed, pulling out his wallet and handing over all but a few singles and a fiver. "B'fore tayx." The woman continued.

"Look," Jack began, his eye twitching as he placed both hands on the counter, immediately setting off the heckles of every security guard in the building "I landed here four hours ago, my luggage lost, my hotel overbooked, and a charity ball in-" he checked his watch dramatically, the brawny men closing in "-less than an hour. My suit is somewhere between here and Dallas, and I currently have two hundred aaaaaaand.... three dollars to my name. Help me out, PLEASE!"

The server glanced over her shoulder to someone not wearing a uniform, which to Jack meant either the owner or manager. He nodded, and the clerk turned back to him. "Call it Two-oh-tree den." Jack's eye twitched some more as he slammed the remaining bills onto the counter, took his suit and left. "Receyt?" She called after him, grin across her face as she waved his receipt. His one fingered reply was all that was needed to get his point across.

A brief walk back to a set of public toilets and a few minutes later Jack was dressed. The suit's slightly dusty smell helped hide his own musk as he hoped the leather loafers he had been wearing would be passable enough for entry. That's when his phone went off again. He fumbled for it and taking a glance at the caller, immediately answered.

"Ms Smith." He blurted out.

"Oh good, Jack. Just wanted to give you a call to check you were coming tonight." The sounds of merriment and music were soft in the background of her call, Jack reasoning she must be at the event, but in a side room contacting errant attendees.

"Uh, yeah. Yes. On my way now." He huffed, turning to orient himself, trying to remember which direction the casino was in.

"Jack, you sound out of breath." Ms. Smith seemed audibly concerned for the man as the partying sounds drowned out with the click of a door closing. "Are you okay?"

"Heh, kinda."

"Kinda?"

"Well, I have a suit now." He admitted, sighing with a smile as he began walking in the way he thought the event was being held; a large cowboy in the distance the landmark he remembered being on the other side of when in front of the building.

"Didn't you bring one?" Ms. Smith asked, her tone cynical.

"I did. It's in my luggage, which is... somewhere... lost. My hotel was overbooked as well and I've spent all my money either getting here or buying a replacement suit. Still have my Masque though."

There were several seconds of silence on Ms. Smiths end of the line as she made a few scribbles, the sound of pen on paper the only thing Jack could hear until "Okay. Where abouts are you right now?"

Jack looked around trying to find a street sign before facepalming and looking to the building. Looming behind him "Just outside the Marriott, headed towards The Chimaera-"

"Stay there," Ms Smith interrupted "I'll send a car for you. They'll take you to the hotel. Technically it's off-limits as the rooms are still being built, but the Penthouse was finished months ago."

"Ms Smith, I-I can't afford-" Jack began, flabbergasted at the offer.

"Nonsense, nobody's staying there and from the sounds of it, you've had a real rough day. I'm letting the door staff know to expect you. Come down to the main Ballroom when you're ready, though the dinner and speeches do start at eight."

"I-I... Thank you!" Jack sighed, almost tearing up at the news.

"See you when you get here." Ms. Smith said before hanging up.

Within a minute a metallic blue rolls Royce came to a halt out front of the Mariott, and a handsome young man in a drivers cap signalled the smiling Jack into the back. Conversation was nonexistent as the strange sheen on the windows made the neon lights of an evening Vegas shimmer and sway hypnotically. A sudden stop was the only reason Jack was aware they had arrived, and he thanked the driver before running over to the door.

The lights were on outside, but all inside lighting down that end had been turned off, Jack assumed to dissuade visitors while it was still closed, yet advertise its splendour. A very tall and well built security guard was the man to greet Jack.

"Mr. Denton?" Jack nodded, fumbling to find his ID before being told to stop by the gesture of a particularly large hand. "This way." The guard opened the front door and waved to his colleague, who gave a thumbs up in return. "Ms. Smith no doubt informed you the hotel area is as of yet, unfinished?" Jack nodded in response as the guard - who had no identifiable nametags bar a patch that bore the number '0002' - handed him a credit-card sized strip of metal, embossed with Jacks full name. "That will give you access to the elevator, the Penthouse and all the doors necessary to access the ballroom."

"So you'll be down at the door?" Jack asked as they reached the elevator.

"That's our post until the hotel is complete, one of us will patrol while the other stays at the door, then we swap. Now, the elevator opens into the suite, the ballroom is on basement four." He saw Jacks raised eyebrow "You'll understand when you get there. Get yourself ready, you've got a big night ahead." The guard pulled a near identical embossed metal card from his pocket and pressed it to a panel next to the sliding doors. It opened to reveal a fully mirrored space, with etchings of various mythical beasts carved into the silvered backing. ‘0002’ tapped something next to the panel and the doors close behind Jack.

The ride up was slower than Jack had expected, but perhaps that had been calculated as the reveal of the penthouse suite when the doors opened was stunning. It seemed as though the room was carved from a kind of blue marble with what seemed to be either gold or brass flecks running along the seams. Contrasting to that, the furniture was a beautiful ivory-white, trimmed in a burnished brass with blue and gold paisley fabric on the chairs matching the colours of the walls.

He took a quick walk through the rooms, marvelling at the grandeur. The living space was where the elevator had opened into, in it was a huge seat, easily the size of three couches attached in a 'U' shape, the centre of which was a coffee table adorned with bowls of chocolates, nuts and fruit. The couches looked like leather and had a similar colouring as his own suit. Facing the open section of the couch on the wall was a large tapestry where Jack could just barely make the corners of a massive flatscreen television poking out from behind it. Another wall was glass from floor to ceiling and opened out onto what appeared to be a rooftop pool  lit from within by shimmering blue and yellow lights.

The rest of the room opened up into the kitchen area beside the hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom. The kitchen was just as lavishly furnished as the rest of the suite, with a large blue marble preparation island, top of the line cooktop, oven & fridge along with the knives, cookware, crockery and cutlery one would expect from a five star hotel.

Making his way down the hallway Jack peered into the room on the left. The bathroom had a massive tub that looked closer to a jacuzzi carved from white marble while the space he assumed to be a shower had many small holes carved into the blue stone on both the ceiling and floor, the man assuming it dispensed water in a way similar to a rain storm. Fluffy blue and white towels hung from a heated rack near the door and the floor - while the same blue marble as the rest of the place - was left unpolished and somewhat uneven, as though freshly hewn from the quarry it came from.

Moving across the hallway Jack entered the bedroom. Never before had he seen a bed so large. It was easily double the width of a king-size mattress, and maybe even double the length. It rested just far enough off the ground that when Jack sat on it, his knees and feet felt at the perfect angle. The give of the mattress was utterly unique compared to any mattress he had encountered before, and after kicking off his shoes and laying down properly, he could tell why. Within the mattress, small calculations and measurements were being made, the spongy block reacting to his every move and providing the perfect amount of give in just the right places. He theorised if he wanted, he could probably sleep without a pillow.

Jack grasped the ivory-coloured bedsheets in his palms, feeling the exquisite threads as his body tried to decide whether to skip the charity ball and just go to sleep. "Dammit..." Jack mumbled, smiling as he remembered the ball. Heaving himself up and sliding out of his clothes, he made a quick move to the shower. Using the ornate brass fixtures he got the water flowing and just as expected, the water flowed rain-like from the ceiling. He had barely enough time to enjoy his own personal storm before his phone alarm went off again. Shutting off the shower, the man dried himself off before slipping back into his newly acquired suit. Using some of the - hopefully complimentary - deodorant and cologne, Jack was ready to head back downstairs.

"Ten minutes to spare." He chuckled, before slipping the room key into his shirt's breast pocket and retrieving the masque from his satchel. "Now, to the ballroom." Stepping into the elevator, Jack found a distinct lack of buttons. The only non-mirrored parts of the enclosed space were the floor, ceiling, handrails and a small bronze patch near the door similar to the one outside that let him in. Placing his card against it, the glass to the right glowed with the letters PH, L and B4. He reasoned that must have been what ‘0002’ was messing with earlier. Selecting B4 Jack felt the elevator moved and breathed a sigh of relief.

He caressed the mask, looking it over in the mirrored elevator. The whole inner surface was lined with black satin, while the outer surface was covered with a deep blue-green metallic paint that shone a different colour when seen from a different angle. the shape would cover the areas around Jacks eyes, and over the nose but left the mouth area free to be seen, while being held to his head by an adjustable elasticised strap. Jack was proud of this mask, the mask he had painstakingly formed, painted and detailed over the last week.

In less than a minute the ornate mirrored box had shuttled him down past the lobby and opened with a 'ding' into a well lit but completely empty hallway. It was fashioned much the same as his room, with blue marble floors and walls, interspaced with the occasional ivory-white decorative column and brass trim. Perhaps fifty feet of hallway stretched between him and a large set of brass doors, before them standing a red-haired woman in a deep green, ankle length dress.

The figure at the end of the hallway looked up from her tablet as the elevator doors chimed open. "Mr. Denton!" She called out, waving Jack over. As he approached, he could make out the designs on the dress; the iconography of ancient and mythological beasts embroidered into a full-body artwork from hem to neck, a slit cut up the right side that exposed a narrow band of skin up to the woman's thigh. Her pale white skin was offset by bright red hair tightly packed into a bun despite desperately trying to return to its naturally curly state. A pair of half-moon glasses sat near the end of her button nose, iridescent green lipstick curled into a smile as she got a look at Jacks suit.

"Good evening Ms. Smith." Jack said trying to sound confident, a slight warble belying his nervousness. If the woman noticed, she didn't show it.

"Good evening indeed." She made more of a deal of looking the man up and down. "You could not have chosen a better suit." Ms. Smith grinned as she dusted his shoulders "and that masque. You said you made it?" She moved her head around, observing its metallic sheen and changing colours.

Jack cleared his throat, half proud and half nerves. "Yeah. I uh, I spent quite a while getting the iridescence right with the paints. Couldn't find the right colour, so had to put it together from scratch. Kinda wish it had more blue now, to match the suit." The mask and suit were slightly different shades of blue, but only barely; Jack's keen eye and self criticism getting the best of him.

"You look great. Now, deep breath, you're the last to arrive." Before Jack could do anything more Ms. Smith opened the doors to Jack’s destiny.