Those at the top find it the most pleasurable as they fall to the bottom.

Fyodor sat on the couch, holding a glass with vodka as the sounds of drunk chatter and the smell of cigarettes faded in the background. He was hosting a collage party in his house and of course there were alcohol, drugs and cigarettes.

'Fools....' Fyodor thought as he sipped from his glass, staring at the ceiling. He wasn't any better. He was a nineteen year old who attended a prestigious collage with top marks, yet he got no enjoyment from it. He felt no sense of enjoyment from his easily acquired top marks.

So, he hosted these parties, to make himself feel better. The cool alcohol gave him a buzz as it slid down his throat, making him forget the apathy he felt for his own life. He was already set for life with his connections in the Russian Mafia.