2
1928 Words
JASON
I didn't want to go to school today. I really didn't need any more school, but my father seems to think my first degree in Art History was mine alone, a little indulgence, and now I have to go back. I have to study Business to inherit the empire I don’t want. I’m left with no choice after he meticulously ensured every investor I approached for my gallery turned me down. Nothing ruins a passion project like knowing your funding was strategically cut off by your own parent.
I dragged myself up and started preparing for the performance—the role of the dutiful son. After I was done, I grabbed my backpack and headed downstairs. My mum, Kiara, was already in the kitchen, making breakfast.
“Morning, Mum. I’m off to school,” I said, giving her a quick hug goodbye.
“Have you seen your father this morning?”
I’m sure I gave her some kind of exaggerated expression. I really didn’t want to talk to Mr. You need to study Business for your own good.
“Just have breakfast,” she insisted, passing me a plate of toast.
I only grabbed one slice. “I love you, Mum.” And with that, I escaped to my new, temporary playground.
I made sure I was early. Not out of academic interest, but because I wanted to avoid seeing Mr. You need to study Business for your own good twice in one day. Call me petty; I know I am. I bypassed the luxury sedan and got on my motorcycle—my sleek, matte-black bike—just to annoy him. It was a small rebellion, but it was mine.
I parked the bike and started walking towards the Business faculty. I already knew the way; I’m a human map with zero arguments.
I reached the entrance and saw her: a girl on the floor. She looked completely mortified, scrambling to collect herself. I walked up immediately.
“Are you okay?”
She just stared at me. She had these huge, expressive brown eyes, and her hair was everywhere.
“Excuse me, are you fine?” I asked again, crouching slightly.
She finally gave a stiff nod. I held out my hand to help her up. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then took it, pulling herself up and immediately starting to dust off her skirt.
“I’m Jason. You are...?”
She just bowed politely, a small, awkward gesture, then turned and walked straight into the building.
Okay. I did not just get ignored by a cute girl who refused to tell me her name. That was a first.
I walked inside the building, found the lecture room easily—human map, remember—and grabbed a seat in the back corner. I wanted zero attention. I brought out my phone, logged into my socials, and started surfing until the bell rang. I didn't want to think about the papers I was supposed to be reading.
My only goal was to get home early and avoid seeing Mr. You need to study Business for your own good. He might not even be home, but I needed sleep, and I needed quiet. I’ll just go home, ignore him, and crash.
I ended up leaving early, as planned. My bike looked beautiful sitting in the sun. I got on and rode home.
The automatic gates opened, and I rolled the bike into the drive. The house felt huge, isolating. It felt like I was back in a place where my opinion was only allowed when it matched the master plan.
“Baby, you’re back early! Are you okay?” My mum appeared, instantly alert and concerned.
“I’m fine, Mum. Just tired.”
She looked like she didn’t believe me, but I wasn't about to start the "Business is pointless" argument in the hallway.
“I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
I climbed the sweeping staircase, grateful that it was just my mum and me for the moment. I opened my room, dropped my bag on the couch, and collapsed onto the bed.
I wish that cute girl with the big eyes had told me her name. I liked her big brown eyes. It would be nice to be her friend. It looked like the guy who sat in front of her—a loud, blonde guy—was the only person she talked to. And that guy looked like trouble.
She was cute, seriously cute. And those big brown eyes were memorable. I don't know her name. She ignored me, and that was a first, which felt different because everyone else around here always wants something from me.
I must get her to be my friend. Even to me, that sounds like a challenge, but I’m going to do it either way. I need to sleep, but I keep seeing her face...
She’s really cute, though.
“Jason... Jason, get down here!” My father’s voice, a commanding boom, cut through the quiet house. Ughhhhh.
“Comingggg!” I groaned. I just wanted to sleep pleasantly.
I made it to the kitchen. "I'm here... What do you need?"
“I need help cutting the veggies.”
Did she just call me to come downstairs to cut vegetables? In a house with a professional chef?
“Mum, I was just trying to sleep.”
“Your father is coming home with a very important friend and I need help with the food.”
I didn't think I had a choice. I grabbed a knife and the chopping board and moved to one of the stools around the large kitchen island.
“What do you need help cutting?”
She passed me carrots, spring onions, and cucumbers. How was I supposed to get all this done before the Ray Vance arrival?
“How was school today?”
I knew it. She didn't need help; this was a setup.
“It was fine.”
“Did you meet any new friends?”
“No.”
“You know your father is doing all this for you.”
I knew it. This whole thing was just a trick to soften me up for the lecture. I nodded, chopping carrots with more aggression than necessary.
“Baby, he loves you, and he’s doing everything for your future. Say something.”
“I know, Ma.” What did she want me to say? That I wished she had invested in my art instead of letting him crush my dream? She would always support her husband, and I didn't blame her, but I hated being part of the manipulation.
Beep... beep... beep... beep.
The gate chime. Ugh, he’s home. And my mum wouldn't let me go back upstairs.
"I'm home," my father called out from the foyer. Why was he smiling so widely? It looked so fake.
“Jeeez... Mum, why did you pinch me?” I mumbled, rubbing my arm. She nodded sternly toward the kitchen entrance where a well-dressed man now stood.
“Hi, Dad. How was work today?” I managed, my tone deliberately neutral.
“It was fine, son. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. This is Mr. Steve. He’s the President of Fams Conglomerate.”
“Good evening, Mr. Steve. I’m Jason, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I managed a passable handshake.
“Evening, young man. I’ve told your father before, and I’ll continue saying it until he changes. Call me Itachi.”
Itachi? I thought that was a Japanese name.
“Yes, to answer your question, I’m Japanese. It was written all over your face; you didn’t have to say anything,” he said, with an unnerving, knowing smile.
“Hi, Itachi, welcome home, and I prefer you to sit down because I’m a nice host,” my mum joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
“Honey, why don’t you go change while I set the table, and Jason keeps Itachi company.”
Mum, nooooooo, don’t do this to me!
“So, Jason, I heard you just started Business school. How is it going?” Of course, he knew.
“It’s going better than I expected.” Big brown eyes may have something to do with it.
“Jason, can you turn on the TV in the lounge and come help me set the table?” Thank God. I turned on the TV from my phone and excused myself to the kitchen.
“Why are you making everything awkward?” Mum whisper-yelled, her bubbly facade momentarily gone.
“Just carry the plates and put in more effort, please. This means a lot to your father.”
Of course.
“The table is set. Go get your father and Itachi. Don’t be awkward, please.”
Time, move faster, please!
Five long, forced minutes later, we were all seated.
“Since Jason is eventually going to take over from me, he’s also your responsibility, Steve. If you have any tips, advice, or opportunities, he’s all yours.”
I'm nobody’s.
“Sure thing, Ray. He’s just like you, exactly. Jason, son, if you have any questions or anything you need but can’t ask your father, just come straight to me.”
“Thanks, Itachi.”
“Thank you,” my father gritted out, clearly thinking my simple 'thanks' was rude.
“Thank you.”
Awkwardddd.
“Dinner was nice, thank you very much for having me. I appreciate it. I’ll invite you over soon.” Itachi got up from the table.
“It’s getting late. I should leave now. See you around, Jason.”
“Goodnight, Itachi.”
Finally. Dad got up and saw him off. I tried to make a break for the stairs.
“What was that performance you pulled? You couldn’t even make a little effort for just this one night? While I made an effort and let you go to art school, you’re selfish—”
“That’s enough, Ray!” Mum cried out.
“Kiara, you don’t get to tell me enough when you watch the stunt he pulled. Mr. Steve is a major partner of mine, and he acted like that in front of him! He could’ve just acted normal for just that moment. You're ungrateful, Ray.”
“Don’t Ray me! I don’t know how I gave birth to a defective child!”
“My child is not defective!” Mum screamed, tears instantly flowing.
Did he just call me defective? Wow.
“I’m handing everything on a silver platter, but he’s choosing trash over it!”
“Ray, stop it, you’re hurting him!”
Why couldn't I move? My body was stuck in one place, absorbing the words like punches.
“He needs to rethink and see his wrong decisions.” Ray stormed out of the dining room.
“Baby, look at me. He’s just angry, that’s why. I promise you he loves you... he doesn’t mean it.” I hated seeing my mother cry; it was the only thing that ever broke my stoicism.
“I’m fine, Mum, I promise. Stop crying.” I gently wiped her tears.
“Let’s go to bed.”
I took her to her room and tucked her in, murmuring reassurances until she quieted. Then, I went to my room. I just wanted to sleep. I knew tonight was permanently engraved in my head, a reminder of my worthlessness in his eyes. I couldn't stay awake because I’d end up doing something I might regret.
I took two sleeping pills to ensure I would be unconscious, and finally slept.
- Writer
