Phileas scoffed softly upon hearing the berating that Bellamy, his "friend", was giving the waiter, just happy that Bellamy was no longer focusing on mocking Fogg for the bet they had made. Fogg was damned if he wasn't going to make it around the world in eighty days, starting tomorrow. He didn't really need the twenty grand but... pride.

Bellamy was an older man, slightly chubby, with gelled up hair that faded to a slight grey at the roots. Fortescue was sat next to them, much older, much wiser. He was simply ignoring everything, submersed in his newspaper.

This was until you, Fortescue's young adult of a child, stormed into the Reform Club, huffing about the article in a newspaper. An article that you had written, but your father had claimed as his own for your "safety".