His Father's Son

Ethan Blackwood stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of his family's penthouse apartment, gazing out at the city skyline. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets below. Yet, despite the beauty of the scene, Ethan felt suffocated by the weight of his family's legacy. "Ethan, your father wants to see you in his study," his mother, Vivian Blackwood, said, her voice a gentle interruption to his thoughts. Ethan turned to face her. Vivian was a woman of impeccable taste, her blonde hair styled perfectly, her designer dress accentuating her slender figure. But beneath her polished exterior, Ethan had always sensed a deep sadness, a resignation to the life she had chosen. "What's this about, Mother?" Ethan asked, his tone neutral. Vivian's expression was carefully composed. "I'm not sure, dear. But you know how Father gets when he's been drinking. Just...be careful, okay?" Ethan nodded, feeling a familiar knot of tension in his stomach. He made his way to his father's study, the sound of classical music and the scent of cigar smoke filling the air as he approached. Harrison Blackwood, Ethan's father, sat behind his massive mahogany desk, a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigar in the other. His eyes, a piercing blue, seemed to bore into Ethan's very soul. "Ah, Ethan, my boy," Harrison said, his voice booming across the room. "Come in, come in. We need to talk about your future." Ethan felt a surge of resentment at the familiar phrase. His future. Always defined by his father's expectations, never by his own desires. "What about it, Father?" Ethan asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. Harrison leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his face. "I've been thinking about your role in the company. You're twenty-five now, old enough to take on more responsibility. I want you to start working closely with me, learn the ins and outs of the business." Ethan felt a pang of dread. He had always known this day would come, but he had hoped to delay it, to find some way to escape the fate his father had mapped out for him. "I don't know, Father," Ethan said, trying to sound casual. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that level of commitment." Harrison's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing. "Not ready? You're a Blackwood, Ethan. You're born for this. You'll do what I tell you to do." Ethan felt a familiar sense of frustration and helplessness. He knew that arguing with his father was futile, that he would only end up feeling guilty and trapped. "I'll think about it, Father," Ethan said, trying to placate him. Harrison's face relaxed, his smile returning. "Good boy. I knew you'd see things my way. Now, let's discuss the details..." As Ethan listened to his father's plans, he felt his mind wandering, his thoughts drifting to the one thing that brought him joy: photography. He had always loved capturing moments, freezing time in a frame. But his father saw photography as a hobby, not a viable career path. The meeting ended with Ethan feeling more trapped than ever, his future mapped out in a way that left him feeling suffocated. As he left the study, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to life than being "His Father's Son."