The invitation said,

In other words,

Which meant that Frederic would not be invited due to a prior altercation involving an executive, a mermaid, and a bottle of white rum. In fact, Frederic had merely come upon the invitation while snooping through the desk of a fellow co-worker. Lorenzo, the co-worker in question, was the only worker who left his drawer key on a dangling hook, insuring that he would never get locked out of his own drawer. The others didn't behave this way and found it absurd to leave keys dangling in the daylight.

Frederic first knew something was afloat when on his way to the stairwell one morning, he passed by the mailroom and discovered an army of ivory colored envelopes in all of the boxes except his. Immediately, Frederic wondered what the hold-up was.

Was he suddenly disliked? And if so was he suddenly so disliked that someone sending an army of envelopes would deliberately leave him out? What's another envelope in an army?

He approached the head mailman.

"Where's mine, Mr. Kroop?"

Mr. Kroop looked up from his busy sorting to say, "Well Frederic, sometimes it just works out that way."

Frederic would need to get to the bottom of this. So while Lorenzo took his regular 3:33 PM break, Frederic made his move. He recognized the address on the card instantly, as it belonged to a one,

So that explains it, he thought.

"What are you doing here, Frederic, you're uninvited," said Ms. Storm when he arrived at the massive doorway promptly at seven.

"I came to see the mermaids."

"But Frederic, you were uninvited."

"Yeah, why is that?"

"Frederic--"

"Why is that, Ms. Storm?" he asked, a devilish twinge in his eye.

She blinked.

"Since we know each other...well." Twinge twinge.

"Frederic--," she began.

"The lovebirds! At it again!" proclaimed a wayward guest from inside the atrium.

Ms. Storm shifted her weight to her heels and began to rock back and forth.

"Ms. Storm--or should I call you Millie? I might remind you that Episodes of Social Misconduct are excusable after 13 months and no longer. Besides, it was his fault."

Frederic thought he detected a slight smile from Millie, but he wasn't yet certain.

"That's the rule," he assured her.

She continued her rocking back and forth on her heels, but soon tired of holding her stance.

"Well then Frederic, I suppose you should come in."

He tipped his hat and made his way into the great hall.

"Frederic!"

"Freddie!"

"Fredelicious!"

"I may not be sweet but I am delicious," he answered their welcome calls.

Millie rolled her eyes, grabbed the nearest Female Friend and forcibly led her to the pinstripe powder room to discuss Frederic's unexpected arrival.

"Well," began the Female Friend, "I assume he came to make merry amongst the mermaids and executives alike. Like it said on the invitation."

"But he was uninvited..."

"Your anger seems to mask a streak of exhilaration," the Female Friend noted.

Frederic made the rounds, ate the stuffed grape leaves, drank the rum, danced a few numbers and chatted up the old ladies, but in the end he wandered off to find Millie. He found her holding court in a side courtyard, beneath an overgrown banyan tree in whose branches they had once shared a lasting kiss. Presently, her admirers seemed to be enthralled as she digressed about the state of the transnational imagination, a concept which the admirers were not convinced was truly a concept, but found interesting nonetheless. At Millie's side stood Lorenzo.

Frederic saw that this was the case, and squeezed his way into the center to ask loudly, "What exactly is the transnational imagination, Ms. Storm?"

Lorenzo shot Millie a look that clearly said, " I thought he was uninvited." But not much was lost upon our friend Frederic. He could sniff a pheromonal conflict from yards away.

Frederic shot Lorenzo a look that said, "Last time you leave your drawer keys dangling in the wind, huh buddy."

"Well...Frederic," she began.

"Do I make you nervous, Millie? Is that why I was uninvited?"

Millie waved a hand. "Follow me, please Frederic, I'd like to have a word."

"Boys." Frederic gave a nod and a friendly salute to the admirerers and skipped along after Millie. Lorenzo remained dignified and over-confident that Frederic was sure to cause a commotion and get himself thrown out, like he always did.

Once out of earshot, Millie turned to Frederic.

"Why must you haunt me, Frederic?"

"Well Millie, I find that it's a fun thing to do. A favorite pastime. A real hoot. A day at the--"

"Enough, Frederic, enough.

"Face it Millie," he said. "Just face it."

She tried hard not to smile. She tried even harder not to laugh.

"What do you want with old Lorenzo, anyway? What has he got that I don't have a plethora of?"

"Common sense and courtesy."

"What good does that do you?

Twinge.

"It does plenty. Now please, I believe it's time for you to--"

"Oh, Ms. Storm. Please. The jig is up."

Lorenzo sensed the pheromonal encroachment and sidled up to Millie with a highball of rum and mint.

"Ms. Storm, the mermaids are commencing activities. May I escort you to the pool?"

Frederic continued to send eye sparklings her way, even as she said, "Thank you, Lorenzo. You may," and placed her arm in his.

Frederic sat in the back of the crowd as they watched, mesmerized, by the swimming of the mermaids. Then, Millie took to the podium.

"I'd like to welcome you all to the commencement of the new Aquatic Center for the Unexplained, made possible by the good fellows at Mythicorp, who never stopped believing."

Polite applause.

"Thank you. And a giant thank you to everyone at WiseFool Business Solutions, the most forward thinking organization I have yet to encounter..."

Polite applause.

"Oh Millie," thought Frederic.

He stopped listening after that and nudged the guy next to him.

"You seen one mermaid you seen 'em all," he said, downing the last drop of rum.

The guy turned up his nose and scooted away from Frederic the dissenter.

Frederic lay back on the grass to consider the stars and his place beneath them while the formalities meandered on. He caught snippets between his thoughts and his growing inebriation, words strung together by old men with cologne like, "sharp decline of revenue, subscriber acquisition costs, non-linear Microsystems and domo arigato." As far as Frederic was concerned, they were all there to get a piece of Ms. Millie Storm.

"That's it." He sat upright so fast he got a headrush and suffered a near blackout. But he made his way to the podium, somehow managing to bypass the line of security guards and convince someone with laminated passes around his neck to let him through because the next thing he knew he was on the mic.

"Domo arigato," he said clearly. "And welcome."

"Oh no," said Millie.

"Oh yes," thought Lorenzo.

Even the mermaids, who swam peacefully in the lagoon-like pools without a care in the above-water-world, tread water with their tails to hear what Frederic had to say. Even the mermaids sensed his charm and intrigue. And what did Frederic have to say?

"You can all take your phony concerns about the state of transcontinental imagination or whatever she said and stick it you know where because I know what this is all about and so do you."

Confused mutters.

"Raise your hand if Millie Storm has stormed up your mind."

Millie slapped her hand on her forehead. Numerous hands pat her back.

"Let's be honest. Are you really here for the mermaids? For the hors devours? The rum? No need to squander your earnings on imaginary investments just for the opportunity to kiss Millie beneath the banyan tree...it's your hard earned money and this is all imaginary!"

The mermaids looked at one another knowingly and submerged themselves underwater without a trace.

"See? They didn't really exist," explained Frederic.

Shocked faces and gasps.

"Besides, she won't kiss you anyway because she's in love with me."

Lorenzo rushed the stage to pull Frederic from the mic.

"Oh, Lorenzo," said Frederic. "It just had to be you."

As Millie Storm stood in a state of shock, the guests slowly began to disappear, as did the trays of hors devours. One by one the highballs of rum refilled themselves into the bottles from which they came, and the glasses reorganized themselves in the bar. The music ceased to amplify itself, and the decorations simply vanished. The security guards left no trace, nor did the old men with cologne. The only thing left standing was the pheromonal conflict between Millie, Frederic and Lorenzo. Those things never simply vanish.

"Millie. I know you have a penchant for make believe, but really. Don't you think you've gone a bit too far?" asked Frederic.

"She's tired of your antics, Freddy, and she's tired of you," answered Lorenzo.

"Millie. Snap out of the paralysis now, you've dramatized the moment enough. If you don't ask this gentleman to leave, then I'll have to," said Frederic.

"I'm not going anywhere, Fred," said Lorenzo.Millie, consequently was beginning to come back into the picture.

"Lorenzo, look, this whole thing has turned out to be a little misleading, I admit. But there's something that you must understand. Millie and I dwell in the same corner of conscious thought, and I, whether it be my fortune or my fatal flaw, I am the one who most clearly comprehends the elaborate worlds that Ms. Storm creates in order to confuse us all."

"Is that right, Millie? Is it true what he's saying?"

Drawn out awkward pause.

Then, as if the moment had arisen with just the proper alignment, she spoke.

"I'm afraid so, Lorenzo. I'm afraid so. Whether it be my fortune or my fatal flaw, Frederic has cracked the code. And with that Lorenzo, departed. With a poof. And the two were left standing under the banyan tree.

"I'm sorry I ruined your party, Millie," said Frederic with a sincere smirk. "But really, it was all make believe."

Millie could hold the straight face no longer. She began to laugh and with the grab of the wrist, flung both herself and Frederic into the lagoon-like pool, the former Aquatic Center for the Unexplained, where moments ago, mermaids had concluded activity.