The following evening, Michael slides his fully-charged phone into his pant pocket, before kissing Harper's lips goodbye.

"I'll be home as soon as I can. I promise." He smiles at her, tucking a piece of hair from the front of her face, behind her ear. "Have a nice, relaxing evening. Don't stress. I'll just see what this is about and that's all. Who knows — maybe we'll be rich after this." He snickers, knowing there's no way anything will come of this experience.

"Just be careful out there," Harper pleads with him. "And please answer my calls if I try to contact you."

"I promise," he assures her. "I love you. See you later."

"I love you too."

With that, he heads out of the house, beginning to make his way to Jackson Street; where the voice over the phone told him to go. He arrives at 6:23PM, giving him seven minutes to spare. He uses this time to think over what could possibly occur this evening. Will it be a genuine party? Will there be a lot of people there? Will there really be money? What's the catch? These are all questions he can only find out, once he has been collected from the spot he's currently standing in.

The clock on his wristwatch eventually hits 6:30PM; and as it does, Michael sees a car driving down the road towards him. He squints his eyes to get a clearer look at the vehicle; it's a large car which is a dark khaki shade. With tinted black windows and an effortlessly-silent motor, it pulls over next to Michael. The door opens seemingly by itself, with a passenger seat visible inside. He climbs in, taking the seat as his own; buckling up as the car door slides shut again.

The soft nightlife outside is silenced as soon as the car door is closed; the lack of noise is almost painful for Michael. He turns his head to the right to find a figure sat beside him — dressed in all-white, with a white mask covering their entire face. The masked figure pulls out a red blindfold.

"Put this on," it says. "To avoid ruining the secret location of the party. It is strictly for guests only."

Reluctantly, Michael takes the blindfold from the stranger. He places it over his eyes, tying it at the back to secure it into place. He still has hesitance about this whole ordeal, but he evaluates that he is too far into this to back out, now. The journey lasts perhaps an hour, and in this time nothing is said by anybody — other than the masked figure, when somebody new gets into the car. The same command is given to everybody: 'put the blindfold on to avoid ruining the secret location of the party'.

Once the car has come to a full halt, Michael and the other partygoers are escorted — still blindfolded — out of the vehicle, and to a building. Once they are all inside, the masked figure walks to the centre of the room.

"Remove your blindfolds," they demand.

Gradually, the room full of people start to take the blindfolds away from their eyes; and allow them to adjust to the lighting of their surroundings. The entire room is white — the walls; the floor; the ceiling — even the doors. There are balloons pinned to the walls; along with party banners and other decorations. A giant piñata, adorned with bright neon colours, and exotic flowered patterns, hangs from the ceiling. The partygoers all take their time to take in the scene; the large scale of the decor is extraordinary.

"Welcome to the party," the stranger continues. "This is the main function room where you will all mingle and get to know one another. Here, we have a strict 'No devices' rule. My team will now come around to collect all mobile devices from you."

Michael's eyes widen as he realises he is going to have to forfeit contact with Harper until he leaves the party. Before the strangers reach him, he quickly texts her.

No phone rule here but I'm okay. Will call you when I'm coming home. I love you baby

Just as he has clicked 'Send' on his message, the stranger approaches him, with an outstretched hand. Michael gives his phone to him; it's placed in a large box with everyone else's devices. Once everybody has handed in their phones and smart watches, the team head back into the centre of the room, standing alongside the masked figure in white.

"We will explain the rules of the party." His voice is low — it matches that of the voice over the phone. "Every partygoer in this room must play the party games we have set up, until you are eliminated. If you are eliminated you are not allowed a second chance to play the game again. There can only be one winner in the game, and that winner will win the grand prize."

"What's the prize? Money?" one partygoer shouts out.

"The prize for winning all the party games ... is seven million dollars."

Michael's eyes — along with everybody else's — widen in shock. What could he possibly do with $7 million? He could afford to pay the medical bills for Harper's brother; perhaps go on vacation with Harper and Rae once she's born; finish paying off the house they bought together — and still have a few million dollars left over to mess with. The idea seems almost too surreal to come to terms with, for him.

"Seven million?" another partygoer scoffs, almost seeming not to believe it. "Yeah, right. I'd love to see that actually happen."

"If you back out of the games you will be eliminated immediately. Wouldn't you rather play the games and find out for yourself?" the masked figure reasons with this partygoer.

All of the other people around Michael talk among themselves, appearing to all be enthusiastic to try out the games and try their luck at winning such a large sum of money. Michael cracks his knuckles together, as if preparing himself for this interesting ordeal, before taking a glance at everyone else set to take part. The men-to-women ratio is pretty much equal, he notes. Are all of these people just as broke as he is? Or are they just playing these games for the fun of it? He isn't sure.

"Attention please players," the masked figure continues. "We will now allow you time to change into your gamer gear ready to begin the first game. Each of you will have your own room, in which you can change your clothing, use the bathroom and relax when the games are not in progress. One by one I will call out your names, and you must come to the front to collect your gamer gear."

The room falls silent momentarily, as each partygoer processes the rules in their head. Some converse with other players, to confer whether they are all still willing to continue playing the game before it has started.

"Player 001 — Alexander Hamilton. Please come forward."

Everyone looks around to find this person — until he reveals himself in the crowd and comes forward to collect his new outfit. Once he's received it, he is escorted by one of the team members to his room to get changed.

"Player 002 — Jane Scott. Please come forward."

This continues in numerical order, causing the room to gradually empty out.

"Player 017 — Prince Rogers Nelson. Please come forward."

The confident young man swaggers forward; his black hair sweeping as he takes each step. His perfectly-stubbled features and piercing eyes gain everyone's attention. He collects his clothing and heads to his room.

"Player 024 — Andrew Ridgeley. Please come forward."

This quirky character playfully punches his friend, before running to grab his gamer gear. His dark hair and matching bushy brows are both endearing and sweet; a couple of the girls giggle as he passes them.

"Player 025 — Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou. Please come forward."

Player 024's friend comes bounding forward; his gorgeous fluffy blonde hair floats on the air as he heads to grab his gear. A good number of females have their eyes on this charming-looking man, biting their lip to hold in any verbal reactions they may have. With sleek dark brows and flashy white teeth, Georgios — affectionately named George, or "Yog" to those who know him — heads to his room, accompanied by the masked team member. More players are listed, which takes a questionably long time, but quickly it becomes apparent that there will be 100 players in the games.

"Player 063 — Whitney Houston. Please come forward."

This bubbly, yet classy lady — with shiny curls and beautiful chocolate skin — paces to the front to collect her outfit. This woman leaves an impression particularly on Michael; what with her pleasant aura and playful smile.

"Player 069 — Madonna Ciccone. Please come forward."

The bouncy-haired blonde woman has the same energy about her as player 017, strutting towards the front of the room to retrieve her gamer gear. Michael mentally notes that she seems like one to avoid for the duration of the party; what with her snake-like eyes and over-the-top arrogant attitude.

"Player 077 — Michael Jackson. Please come forward."

At last, it's Michael's turn. He steps forward, feeling a little conspicuous. He approaches the front, where his gear awaits him — a bright yellow jogging suit, complete with his player number on the jacket chest, as well as on the back. He takes the clothing, before a member of the team leads him to his room. He notes, upon arrival, that the door has his player number conveniently written outside of it.

"At least it's my lucky number," he reasons with himself, entering the room, before locking the door. He slides his shirt off his body, replacing it with the sickly, fluorescent sportswear he has been designated. He catches a glance at his reflection in the mirror above his sink, mentally noting that he'll never buy a jogging suit in this colour in the real world. A soft chuckle comes from him; imagine if Harper could see all of what he's doing, just for the chance to win some money? He almost wishes he was allowed his phone — just so he could get a selfie to show her.

Once he is fully ready, he steps out of his room to find a masked team member stood waiting to escort him back to the main building. As he arrives, he spots some of the other partygoers in their new outfits — admittedly, it's a lot easier to know who's who now that everyone has been given a number. He spies player 100 sitting, talking to players 035 and 089, most-likely about the games and the reason why they decided to take part.

"Ah, a fellow pretty boy. Join the club." Michael whips his head around to see player 017 smirking at him. "The name's Prince. What's yours?" Prince extends an arm out to offer to Michael.

"Uh ... Michael," he responds, accepting the offer and shaking his hand politely. "S-So what brings you here?" His awkwardness gives away his desperation to continue the conversation, as not to appear rude.

"Just wanted to have some fun," Prince explains, shrugging casually. "It's always fun trying to earn some easy money, am I right?"

"I-I guess so, yeah." Michael smiles nervously, leaning his back against the white wall. "I just have a lot of bills ... and stuff."

"Ah, well. You know what Michael, I feel like I could win this thing," Prince laughs confidently. "But because I like you, I'll give you $100 when we get out of here."

"Oh." Michael furrows his brows at this man's apparent arrogance, but tries to hide it by snickering. "Well, gee, thanks. If I win, I'll be sure to give you the $100."

"I guess that's a deal, then." He gives a quick smile, before saluting; he then walks off to meet some of the other players.

Michael watches as Prince goes; he can't help but find some amusement in this man's personality. He tries to evaluate whether it would be a smart game tactic to stick with him, or whether to avoid him until the end of the games.

Regardless, he secretly hopes he forms some bonds while playing, as they may help him later on — and it never hurts to have a strategy.

~~

Chapter three! Finally we're starting to see some new characters! I hope you enjoyed this!