Falling for the Scandal

I'll do it

CHAPTER 5

Iris.

Track; Like the end – James Blake.

My blood boils in anger as I watch old feeds resurfaces along with the little disagreement between Gideon and his musketeers. Again, the press pushes the narrative that I am psychotic and problematic. I don’t know how much mess dad has to erase. When it seems, my name has died down, they manipulate the press into popping something out. Dad did the right thing disowning me.

I leave the page and scroll to the next. I met up with Mr. Alex Russo yesterday for some business and someone clicked a picture tagging it as ‘Iris Mercer is out with yet another sugar daddy. When will she stop bringing shame to the Mercer. With everything going on, she shouldn’t add up to it’

I am thinking of dropping his last name. Maybe when they post something preposterous his name won’t be attached to it. I haven’t spoken to dad in years. Years after the stupid court case mum died and after the funeral, dad didn’t want to have anything to do with me.

Why can’t the Calverley’s leave me alone? Why can’t they let me live my life so freely? They just gave my damn school something to gossip about. I was wrong. I went about things the wrong way I get it. Mum died knowing her daughter is the biggest disappointment, nothing hurts more than that.

Sweat prickles down my forehead and my heart races so fast it feels like I will pass out. A hand snatches my phone from my hand, I don’t need to look up to know who it is. I desperately look around me to soak in enough of my environment as tears blur my vision.

"The benches," I choke out, initiating my grounding routine. "The basketball... the... um..." I close my eyes, forcing myself to look at my trembling hands. "My shaking hands. My... my shorts."

I tilt my head toward the dark-skinned boy standing over me. He has a low buzz-cut with neat waves, and the most comforting aura in existence. A sad, fragile smile creeps onto my face. "And Milo."

“Things you physically feel. Go on” Milo rubs my back.

I look up at the sky while trying to blink away the burning tears. I rub my aching chest breathing through my mouth to stop the suffocating tension. He looks completely panicked.

“I feel you rubbing my back” I play with my stone shaped and colored bead on my wrist, “My therapeutic bead. My weight of me on the bench. And em – my hair” I touch my hair.

“What can you hear?” he utters in a soothing tone.

"Your voice. My racing heartbeat. Footsteps coming from outside the gate."

"Smell?" He raises an eyebrow. I sniff the air, and his familiar chocolate-musk scent hits my nostrils.

"You. And me."

"What about taste, Iris?" he asks. I reach for the metal water bottle sitting on the bench between us. I unscrew the cap and take a long sip. The burning, medicinal taste of gin hits my brain instantly.

“Water” I lie. I move my face away from his face so he won’t smell it. I open my bag and throw a mint gum into my mouth.

"Stop scrolling the internet," Milo says, sitting beside me. "You know the Calverleys won't stop until you are six feet under."

My dad keeps suffering for it," my voice cracks. The image of my father's deeply disappointed gaze bores straight into my mind.

"You can help him, you know. Mr. Calvin hasn't told you yet?" He furrows his eyebrows. I shake my head. "I will let him break the official news to you, but the Calders want you to be Atherton's head sports analyst. It's nice to know Gideon hasn't stopped craving whatever I have."

“It is just sport bullshit, he will come around”

Milo chuckles in a gloomy way, “No, he won’t. It is deeper than just sports. It is deep-rooted in family bloodlines.”

“I am not working for them. I enjoy working with you” I rest my head on his chest and he wraps his arms around me.

“The Calder’s always get what they want. They have this obsessive nature that drives them insane when they don’t have what their heart desires”

“I will show them that I am different” I say, standing on business.

He shakes his head in disagreement. “It is drives like this that landed you into the never-ending beefs with the Calverley’s. It is okay to stay quiet and attack in secret.”

"Are you tired of me already?" I lift my head from his chest, stylishly rubbing at my tight sternum. I close my eyes, trying to envision a reality where I am safe.

"I am sorry if my words sound insensitive, Iris."

"You think I completely messed up too, don't you?" For a single moment, I unmask everything, letting him see the jagged, broken pieces of what I go through every day.

“You lost your mum because of this. They are torturing even though the court case long ended. How much more would you let them take from you? Are you scared of them?” He questions softly.

No one understands. Not Milo. Not Uncle Calvin. Not mum. Not Flora and definitely not dad. I was wrong. I framed him. I am psychopathic. They turned me into this. They made me psychopathic. Maybe I should have been quiet.

"I fought, and I lost my mother and my best friend. I refuse to lose anything else." I unscrew my water bottle again and gulp a massive amount of alcohol down my throat.

The exact second the liquor reaches my stomach, a profound, satisfactory wave of relief washes over me. It makes me numb. It makes me cold. I am so tired of fighting. I just want to feel nothing.

"I should go," I mutter, standing up abruptly. I leave Milo's private basketball court, walking out of his family's massive backyard.

~**~

My vision is completely blurred, and I know I am slightly tipsy. Why does Uncle Calvin have to call an emergency meeting when all I want to do is sleep the pain away? We sit together in the leather interior at the back of his car. Uncle Calvin is a massive man with a prominent potbelly, but he possesses the calmest, most understanding mind I have ever encountered.

“Drunk again”

“Tipsy Uncle. I don’t drink to get drunk. I drink enough to get sleepy.” I remind him and he just stares like it physically hurts him to see me this way.

"Your father is going through a severe legal crisis. It isn't public knowledge yet, and we are trying to die it down as quickly as possible. But... we think they have a hand in it." A cold layer of goosebumps spreads across my skin at the word they.

"Is it confirmed, or just corporate speculation?"

"That, we don't know yet. But I have a distinct feeling the Calders are pulling the strings behind the scenes."

"They usually attack in public," I point out, trying to clear my head.

"I know, but they have a line of highly advanced MedTech equipment coming out. They want to force a market vacuum and sell rapidly during a competitor's crisis. I need you to get close to Gideon and his cousin. Get into their system, find what we need, and write this charge off. Can you do it?"

"How am I supposed to get that close?"

"The Calders want you to sign as Atherton’s head sports data analyst. I already spoke to the Millers, and they are completely on board with the play. They want us to put an end to the Calders' tantrums once and for all. First, we protect your father."

"Dad doesn't know I am the one helping him, right?" My chest constricts tightly at the mere thought of my father finding out.

"He would absolutely kill me if he knew I asked this of you. But my best friend needs us. What do you say, Iris?" Uncle Calvin gazes at me, waiting for confirmation.

I let out a long, exhausting sigh, forcing the fakest smile I can muster onto my lips.

"Yeah. Let us do it."