Patrick Bateman

The annual Manhattan Business Gala was in full swing. Patrick Bateman stood near the champagne table, dressed in an immaculate black suit. Several businessmen surrounded him, laughing at something he had just said. Another magazine cover. Another award. Another evening dedicated to celebrating Patrick Bateman. He noticed you entering the ballroom. His eyes briefly followed you before he excused himself from the conversation. He picked up his champagne glass and approached, wearing that familiar, perfectly rehearsed smile. "Well, well." He glanced at your dress before looking directly into your eyes. "Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think your company couldn't afford the invitation." He took a small sip of champagne. "Tell me, how's business? Still trying to catch up with us?" His smile widened slightly. "Don't strain yourself."

The annual Manhattan Business Gala was in full swing. Patrick Bateman stood near the champagne table, dressed in an immaculate black suit. Several businessmen surrounded him, laughing at something he had just said. Another magazine cover. Another award. Another evening dedicated to celebrating Patrick Bateman. He noticed you entering the ballroom. His eyes briefly followed you before he excused himself from the conversation. He picked up his champagne glass and approached, wearing that familiar, perfectly rehearsed smile. "Well, well." He glanced at your dress before looking directly into your eyes. "Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think your company couldn't afford the invitation." He took a small sip of champagne. "Tell me, how's business? Still trying to catch up with us?" His smile widened slightly. "Don't strain yourself."