A Subtle Shade Of Green

CHAPTER I:

I was still in a trance when the familiar sight of a black car had parked right before me. Trevor Smith, in his sleek gray suit, got out of the car, and opened the backseat door of one of McKinley’s possessions – the S Class edition of a Mercedes Maybach.

The man is one of the family’s most trusted drivers and was recently tasked to babysit me. He is more like a driver slashing a bodyguard, securing my safety, as if I carried some diamonds inside my backpack. I almost rolled my eyes at the mere thought of it because I don’t think I’ll be able to get used to being treated like some sort of a celebrity or like a business tycoon.

This lifestyle is so out of my league that all I can do is to just get inside and escape from the attention I’m getting from behind. I told Mom to reconsider this routine and allow me to be on my own, but both she and George did not think it was going to be a good idea.

“Do you have somewhere else to go, Mr. Hyeon?”

I scoffed mentally when I heard Trevor addressing me like I’m a dignified man. I looked at him through the front mirror. The guy is young, must be in his late twenties, but still fresh with his ocean blue eyes, shortly trimmed dark blonde hair, sharp jawline and broad shoulders.

The way he called me ‘Mr. Hyeon’ did not sound so right in my ears. Although it upholds respect and formality, it still doesn’t fit someone like me, whose life was bound by an unkempt history. The soft mellow coming from the mounted audio makes this ride feel like it’s a calming one, but the truth is, I feel beyond uncomfortable.

“We’re going straight back home,” I muttered, acting nonchalant, despite the uneasiness I felt. “How long have you been working for the McKinleys?”

He peeked a glance at the front mirror. “Five years.”

Five years is long enough to know a person.

With the image of Sage leaving me completely dumbfounded earlier, I couldn’t help but to wonder what kind of guy he is. Surely the reluctance is not just for me alone, right? He might be innately stern, rigid, and even uncompromising to everyone he meets. But why do I feel like he hates me?

I always pondered on that, even find myself searching for his green eyes every time I get a chance to meet his cold stare, but my pride won’t give away my curiosity. I feel like the moment I’d ask is also the moment he’d win my attention, which I don’t easily give away to anyone I know.

This is certainly petty, but with Sage on the line, I don’t think I could ever be as reckless as before. I have this gut feeling that he is a dangerous person with hawk-like green eyes. The dominance in his intent stare calls for submission and I refused to take the role. I cannot just speak my thoughts because that would eventually lead to more suspicions.

“Do I smell?”

Trevor spared me a long glance at the front mirror.

I cleared my throat, tapping my fingers just above my knee joint. “I just wonder if I smell like, you know, cigarettes or something.”

“Not at all, Mr. Hyeon.”

I silently blew off a sigh of relief.

For Sage to figure out that I did smoke, he must have a sensitive sense of smell. Elle may have seen me at the construction site, but I don’t think she’s the type to gossip. I’m not close to her but the kind of vibe she gives away is the same as Sadie’s – they always mind their own business.

I have already met some of Sage’s circle of friends on a few occasions. Elle Montgomery is one of them, with her cousin Nolan Campbell. Just like Elle, the guy is friendly. He doesn’t seem to mind my sudden existence in Eastwood High, as well as the fact that I became Sage’s stepbrother. I really like that about him.

And then there’s Pierce Ryker Flynn, Sage’s first cousin.

Unlike Sage who is snob and cold, Ryker talks to me all the time. At first, I thought he was forcing a conversation with me, but he’s just naturally chatty. He’s got green eyes like Sage, but his were much better. Although blood related and cousins, the two are the exact opposite of each other. While it’s difficult to speak with Sage, Ryker makes me feel comfortable.

I let out a sigh when I reached home.

Surely Mom is not around this time and George usually gets home late. The maids are there but they’re basically working or inside their quarters. I wet my lips with my tongue as I pushed the door, hoping that Sage and I wouldn’t cross paths inside their manor. The place is huge enough to make the two of us comfortably distant from each other.

But chances failed me when the sight of Markus Quinn Sullivan, sitting on the L-shaped couch inside the living room, filled my entire view. He was facing the flat-screen TV but his head whipped around when I came in. I blinked when his gaze landed on mine.

He nodded, acknowledging my presence. “Hey.”

“Erm, hey.”

I cursed under my breath and tried to escape the atmosphere while Sage wasn’t around. If anything, I’d rather not have the two of them suffocating in my presence, because the guy is just like Sages. Almost too mysterious with his dark gray eyes, but he at least could tell the difference between being civil, unlike his friend who seemed to have a problem with my existence.

With Quinn saying no more words other than the simple ‘hey’, I decided to make my way out of the living room, and headed upstairs into my personal space. I immediately tossed my backpack on the floor and flopped my stiff body on my bed. My day is not yet over and I’m already feeling so exhausted. How can living with high-class people be this tiring? It’s as if I’m being monitored 24/7. It’s as if I’m walking on thin ice. Anytime I'd break down. Anywhere I’d fall. I’ve been feeling like this for months now.

I closed my eyes and eventually fell asleep.

“Hyeon?”

I groaned when Mom called from the door. With my eyes still closed, I reached for my pillow and covered my ears, as I rolled my body on the left side of my bed. Can't she give me five more minutes? I don't want to wake up at all. Not when I'm trying to set my mind straight on the present situation I am about to face.

The sound of my door swinging open made me peek through the pillow and her familiar set of slender thighs came in sight. “Honey, I know you’re awake,” she said, closing the door behind her.

“I’m sleep-talking.”

My bed sunk a little when she sat on the edge. “Dinner’s ready, Hyeon. Why don’t you take a quick shower and join us downstairs?”

“Fine,” I mumbled lazily.

I felt her caressing the back of my head. “I received a call from your class adviser this morning.”

“I know you would. What did she say?”

“We’ve already talked about this,” she sighed. “You can’t just skip your classes in your new school.”

“That won’t happen again,” I reassured her as I sat up. Her eyes remained doubtful, so I gave her a small smile. “I promise.”

“You better keep your word,” she stood up, eyeing me with curiosity. “How about Sage? Are you getting along with him?”

I got up from bed and started undressing my shirt. “I am.”

“He’s a good kid, Hyeon.”

“Is he?”

“Hyeon,” her voice turned impatient. “I know this is all new to you but this is our life now. Can we not make this even more difficult?”

I rubbed the back of my neck as I turned to face her. She was watching me closely and I bit my lower lip at the sight of her eyes. My reflection was there. The way her eyes held mine felt like I was a walking reminder of her pain. I may have inherited her soft features, but I had my father’s eyes. I wonder if I'm starting to really look like him and if the little changes somehow bother her.

I looked away. “I’ll just take a shower.”

My parents’ divorce is something we don’t talk about anymore. It’s like a forbidden topic buried in the past. I also think that Mom took legal measures to keep it hidden from the public ever since she became McKinley’s wife. It was a chaotic kind of separation, not by choice, but by necessity.

Sometimes, I can't help but to wonder if it was because of me.

“So, you like painting, Hyeon?”

I blinked when George asked me out of nowhere. “Sort of,” I nodded.

“Easton High offers privileges for aspiring painters,” he informed. “Why don’t you join a club for that?”

“I’ll think about it, Sir.”

My Mom sent me a knowing glare while George laughed at the way I addressed him. “If you still can’t call me Dad, George is fine. Sage’s doing the same with your Mom,” he spared his mute son a glance. “I hope you two are getting along with each other.”

“It seems like Sage is helping him at school,” Mom said with a smile and I almost choked at her statement. “Maybe you could get him to the Arts' Club, too.”

“I can do that myself,” I told her. “He's busy enough being our SGC’s President.”

“Are you busy, son?”

I swallowed slowly.

He was silent the whole time with no word coming out of his lips. I did the same, too, unless necessary. I hadn’t even laid my eyes on him, knowing I’d only receive another cold stare, because he always made it obvious how he hated my presence in this house.

I’m actually sick of him making me feel like I’m a pest in his sight. I wished I could make it clear that the feeling is mutual. I used not to give a f**k about the way he made me feel, but what happened earlier had me realize I shouldn’t force myself to get to his side.

So, Mom should stop asking him to be good to me, because he won’t do it at all. Not that I’m asking him to. If anything, I don’t want us mingling with each other. I’m better off with his nose out of my personal business. In that way, I can be on my own without the need to act cautious all the time. I have a life to protect and being around him would be disastrous. I couldn't imagine the horror of him finding out everything.

I chewed on my food, not minding the mid-air silence inside the dining area, because Sage took a few seconds to respond. Surely he’d say yes, tell them he’s got so much stuff to do, and babysitting me won’t be part of it. Can’t the two notice his obvious nonchalance? Can't they sense that I'm trying to be as less burden as possible to Sage? I'm pretty sure he felt the same.

“No,” his deep voice echoed in my ears. “I’m not busy.”

Surprised at his reply, I tilted my head to look at him.

“I’ll get Hyeon into the Arts' Club.”

This is not what I'd been expecting him to say. He wiped his lips with a napkin as he c****d his head sideways to look at me. I blinked when our eyes met. His green eyes were still as cold as ever but there was a hint of dry humor behind his dark iris. Now, what is this guy trying to get at, huh?