27 | the imposter game
the imposter game
how do you destroy a monster without becoming one?
(two can play the game)
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"Are you going to visit him?" Jeremiah checked, with his expression making it clear that I was harbouring a bad idea.
"Just a visit wouldn't kill," I said simply.
"You should distance yourself from your brother," Jeremiah advised. When he saw that I remained indifferent, he exhaled, "I mean it, Alek."
"Do I have a choice?" I laughed dryly, leaning my back against the cushioned couch when an ache tightened against my chest.
Recollection: Twenty-one years ago
Aleksander | 9
I stood outside the dining room, befuddled by the sounds of happy laughter from within. My feet remained frozen, too confused to even move when I peeked through the ajar door and saw a beautiful portrait of a family enjoying their time with each other over a meal.
It's becoming a habit, isn't it?
I should really stop staring through the gaps of doors because all the scenes always reminded me how unnecessary I was to this world. My hands were already closed into fists as I desperately hoped that I could vanish without a single trace and let the air take me with them into a sanctuary of freedom.
I forced myself to take a step back and fell against a warm palm that supported my back gently. Looking up, I realised that it was the household chef's wife, Grecia. Then, she was just in her late twenties when she got married to Osbert and moved into the main Illiades household. The kind lady looked towards me with her bright russet-brown eyes and asked quietly, "Aleksander, why are you standing here?"
"I'm not feeling well," I lied, attempting to turn away from her and escape from this suffocation that I was feeling. Regardless of how hard I tried, I simply couldn't run with my leaden feet that held me right in place.
Grecia held onto the tray on her hands carefully when she crouched low to level her gaze with mine. She asked, "Would you like for me to make a call to Dr Bernthold?"
"Not a need," I replied. "I just needed a moment of rest in my own room."
Turning around, I began to walk. I dragged the heaviness with me as I kept moving forward. Three steps ahead, Grecia asked from behind me, "Would you like to dine in your room? I can make some of your favourite spinach ravioli and have it served to you, Aleksander."
I wasn't sure why I felt warm in my chest, and I gave her a small nod to appreciate the kind lady for her thoughtfulness and warm gesture. That was the first time in a long while since someone actually cared about my wellbeing and knew my preferences.
Since then, I started having my meals alone in my room and even so, no one bothered to ask where I had gone in my absence. The moment the tides changed in the Illiades household, I became the living shadow that haunted this eerie ground.
On one fateful night, a midnight call arrived and woke the entire household. Father marched into my room and pulled me by my arm forcefully. Unsure and confused, I didn't protest but stumbled right behind his pace as I struggled not to fall with my incapability to follow up. We were in a car in a flash and before I could even figure things out, we arrived at the private hospital that was owned by the Illiades.
I was rushed towards the intensive care ward and that was when I knew that my stepmother, Selene Thindrel, passed on the spot of an unfortunate car accident. I turned to look towards my doppelganger in the ward and the only thing Mallory said was an apology tied to a solemn explanation, "We have tried our best, Mr Illiades. Aillard is in a state of coma and whether he wakes up, it's all up to him."
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked icily, directing my question to my father because I knew that he wouldn't allow me to see this if I didn't serve a purpose. I slowly adjusted myself to face him and repeated my question, "Why am I here?"
"Aillard was attacked because the perpetrator thought it was you in the car," Father spoke through gritted teeth, his tone was harsh and filled with blame. "Even in her death, the Findlay wouldn't let me rest!"
Was this the doing of the woman who gave birth to me?
No.
It was retribution. It was the price this devil had to pay for twisting everyone's fate within his clutch. Yet, his price included having everyone else suffering together with him because before I knew it, he fabricated my identity. In a single wretched night, the identity of the person lying in the hospital bed became me and I became him. I became Aillard Illiades.
This was the beginning of the imposter game — an elaborate scheme that the sadistic devil forced us into as he played us like fucking puppets.
A nauseating feeling overwhelmed me again and I rushed into the bathroom to empty all the nothingness that was resting in my stomach. I coughed and struggled against my inability to breathe. My hand was shaking so violently when I took the inhaler from my pocket and forced myself to dose on the medication to keep me alive.
It was pathetic how every single time I wanted to forgo everything and let myself cease to exist, an image of her would flash in front of my eyes. Her soft brown hair that flowed over her shoulders like a gentle curtain of spring rain, her pale eyes that resembled the beautiful blue of clear skies and her warm smile that shone so much light into my world. It was a frightening obsession because the only reason I had to stay was her.
My wishful hope, my quiet songbird, my Wren Ashenherst.
Leaning against the dark polished walls of the bathroom, I closed my eyes and tried to get rid of the dizziness in my head. Jeremiah hurried in to check on my pulse and he had a stabiliser on standby. My voice was hoarse when I told him, "I'm good, keep that away."
"Okay."
"Leave me alone for now," I added.
"Call me if anything," Jeremiah said. "I'll send myself out now."
"Go," I nodded weakly.
I sat in the bathroom for a good moment before I pushed myself up and left my room. Thankfully, I was clear-minded enough not to fall when I took the stairs down to the kitchen. From outside, I already heard the old couple's lively bickering and when I opened the door to enter, I heard Grecia gasping, "S-Sir, why are you here?"
"Can I request something?" I asked politely.
"S-Sure, please tell us what you would like," Grecia stammered a little out of nervousness.
Neither did I know how to ask of them all of a sudden, but I decided to try, "Can I have some of your spinach ravioli for dinner?"
My request was met with a moment of silence before Grecia snapped out of her paralysed state and replied excitedly, "Yes, of course! Please return to your room and I'll serve it to you right away!"
"Thank you," I said in a low voice, turning around and ready to return until Grecia called me again from behind.
Her voice was filled with warmth and concern when she said my name, "Aleksander."
My feet halted into an immediate stop as I faced Grecia again and she quickly explained, "I hope I wasn't being rude, but can I make that for you every once in a while?"
I was a little stunned by her request but eventually nodded and smiled, "Thank you, I would like that."
Nolan left shortly after our chat, and I went ahead to check on Naya. I placed a hand on her forehead and felt relieved that her fever had subsided, but the medication had knocked her deep into sleep and I assumed that she wouldn't wake up anytime soon.
I took the damp cloth placed on her forehead and submerged it into the basin of cold water that I brought in, wringing the cloth dry before I placed it back on her. Naya mumbled in her sleep, "Nolan..."
I stifled a laugh and carefully folded the cloth in my hand before placing it on her forehead again. Lightly tapping on my best friend's nose, I teased her quietly, "You actually like him a lot, don't you?"
Pulling the blanket up to her shoulders, a noisy shudder startled me and I looked towards the nightstand to see Ismael's name on the screen. I picked up the phone and left the room for her to rest. The moment I swiped to answer, Ismael was shouting from the other end in a worried voice, "Naya! Why didn't you pick up and call? Don't you know that I'm worried sick?"
"Ismael, it's me," I said.
For a calm person like Ismael, the only person who can work him up as such would be his dear sister — Naya Fayed. Everyone who knew this pair of Fayed siblings would know how much Ismael cared for his sister and he couldn't stop worrying whenever it concerns her. Ismael quickly asked, "Where's Naya? Goodness gracious, I wanted to fucking skin the Harris bastard up the moment I received the news."
"Naya's back at home," I assured. "She probably didn't pick up your call because she was sick. Nolan was the one who brought her back to the apartment and he stayed with her until I returned."
"Reinhardt's son?" Ismael checked, making sure that we were talking about the same person.
"Yes, it's him and he's rather adorable," I laughed.
"Really?" Ismael also laughed on the other end of the call. "I guess I'll have to meet him quite soon then. Please help me take care of Naya and send her to the hospital if necessary."
"Don't worry," I comforted. "I'll take good care of her."
"Thanks, precious," Ismael said, hanging up the call right after and I went back into her room to leave her phone back on her nightstand. I didn't mean to pry but as soon as I rested the phone on the glass surface, the screen lit up and Nolan left her a message.
"These two," I chuckled with a wide smile lifted from the corners of my lips. I shook my head as I nagged in a quiet voice at Naya, "Get together already."
Grabbing my laptop from my room, I went downstairs and settled myself at the high table with a cup of warm tea in my hand. I stared out of the window, looking at the city skyline as I flipped my laptop open and browsed through my mailbox. A particular mail caught my attention and I realised that it was a request for representation over a lawsuit between the Suttons and the Illiades.
Picking up my phone, I dialled a number and waited. The ring went on for a brief moment before the call went through and a familiar deep voice sounded from the other end, "Wren?"
"Mr Illiades, I heard that you're in need of a lawyer for representation?" I asked.
"I didn't expect that the Suttons would contact you," Aillard mentioned in his usual calmness. Knowing him, he was never a person to panic in troubling times and I laughed at the knowledge that the Suttons really picked the wrong opponent to go against this time.
"Well, Mr Illiades, do you need a lawyer now?"
"The Suttons contacted you, shouldn't you represent them?" Aillard asked.
"I haven't contacted them back to strike a deal and I don't exactly know the situation between the two big families," I stated. "Since all fair's in war, I'm offering you a chance of hiring me."
"State your offer, angel."
"My service is rather expensive," I laughed teasingly.
"For you, any price is possible."
"Really?" I asked, amused. "Though, I don't desire wealth."
"What do you desire?"
"You," I stated simply. "I want to return to your side."
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