"I look like a waiter," he whispered to his reflection.
"You look like a winner," Jude said, walking in. Jude was wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than Alex's house. "Also, waiters don't wear watches that cost fifty thousand pounds."
Alex looked at his wrist. The watch from Steve. The one he got after his debut. It was still his favorite.
Mark burst into the room. He was wearing... a gold tuxedo.
"I TOLD MILO NO!" Alex shouted.
"HE SAID YES!" Mark yelled back, spinning around. "LOOK AT ME! I AM A TROPHY!"
"You look like a Ferrero Rocher," Jude laughed.
"I look delicious!" Mark insisted.
Antoine walked in. He was wearing a classic, elegant suit. He looked at Mark. He sighed.
"Speed," Antoine said. "You are... bright."
"Thank you!" Mark beamed.
"Come," Antoine said. "The car is waiting. The Ballon d'Or does not wait for golden chocolates."
The Theater du Chatelet was glowing. Red carpet. Cameras. Fans screaming.
"ALEX! ALEX! OVER HERE!"
