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Notes: This was originally written for the ds_flashfiction Secrets Challenge.
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His life is made of a tissue of secrets.
Topmost; daytime-self, the person that sees sunlight. Armando Langoustini is a Concerned Citizen of Las Vegas. His housekeeper buys third-world fair-trade organic produce at shockingly chic markets and his gardener tends the very latest in xeroscaping.
Armando Langoustini is on first name terms with the Mayor and the Sheriff and a selection of the most influential casino owners. They go to each other’s ‘events’ and the extravagant and upmarket birthday parties they throw for their children.
The Mayor’s kids have taken a real shine to Uncle Armando, especially since he booked them a whole circus for a day.
Next in; night-time man, the person that smokes hideously expensive cigarillos. This is Mr. Langoustini. His right-hand man buys third-world arms-trade weapons on the black market and his accountant tends to the very latest in untraceable off-shore bank accounts.
Mr. Langoustini knows the first names of everyone within his world. He also knows the first names of their parents and their partners and their children. He makes sure that they know he knows by sending every single person a birthday card. It always has a flower and a bee on the front and the inside is always blank.
Many of Mr. Langoustini’s underlings call him ‘Boss’, especially when he looks at them with a dead-eyed expression.
Inside; hidden away, the person that is faintly surprised that it’s possible to become tired of wearing Armani suits. He’s not been seen for thirteen months, five days, two hours and forty-two minutes and he gave up trying to calculate the seconds during the second month.
Raymond Vecchio wonders what’s happening in Chicago. He wonders who is playing his life and driving his Riv. He wonders how many times Benny’s thrown them out of a window, and whether or not the wolf has bitten them yet.
Nobody knows about this Raymond Vecchio and he’s beginning to forget who he really is.