Chapter — Summary
Starts like any other Wednesday at Bungalows—Jack on the rocks, VIP humming, Ladies’ Night in full bloom—right up until the universe decides to flex. What begins as casual lawsuit chatter (the kind involving spoiled kids and presidential connections) quickly veers into hire-a-better-lawyer territory. Because in this business, it’s not about innocence—it’s about who can drop the biggest name with a straight face.
Then Marcel strolls in glowing like a man who knows something dangerous, and casually drops the words Guns N’ Roses. Not a cover band. Not a tribute act. The actual rock gods—plus Sebastian Bach and an ‘80s icon who refuses to age quietly. Suddenly a mellow Wednesday mutates into a full-blown security operation involving Special Forces, embassy muscle, and enough testosterone to destabilize the block. By nightfall, five thousand fans are pressing in, the VIP is sterilized like an operating room, and Jack Daniels starts flowing with the urgency of a humanitarian aid drop.
From there, reality fully unravels. Coke requests come from unlikely mouths, office meetings turn into chemical experiments, and my private space becomes a rockstar obstacle course complete with checkpoints and bodyguards. The party migrates—first to my penthouse, then straight through common sense—leaving behind floating liquor bottles, powdered surfaces, and neighbors who absolutely did not sign up for Ecuadorian Spring Break: Rockstar Edition.
By sunrise, the band asks for coke “for the road,” I score backstage passes, and somehow still make it to the concert—where altitude humbles legends and exhaustion becomes a lifestyle choice. Just when you think it’s over, round two kicks off at a sketchy after-hours club, then a parking garage, then finally a walk-in closet where sleep becomes the real luxury. It’s a chapter about excess, access, and the strange moment you realize you’re no longer watching the chaos—you’re hosting it.
