When The Magic Wears Off

It was 00:41 when I started the car to drive back home. As much as I didn't want to, there was only so much trouble I could get Andre into.

To my advantage, the streets were nearly empty as I wound past them. Not that it helped any bit. I would still reach home after a while. And maybe I should have been speeding my way back home but I wasn't. Partly because I was in a really happy mood and partly because I preferred not to get into an accident at such a time.

               Sometimes when I'd gone out with Andre and it was just the two of us, he'd let me drive and scold me every time I went too fast. I'd laugh and he'd double the scolding. He was just the best.

               It wasn't Andre that I saw when I first got home, it was my dad and he was really pissed off. His fists remained clenched at his sides as his face remained stoic. He was furious.

               The guards stood still in a line facing him, tense as they could be as he paced back and forth uneasily.

               He stopped when he saw me, relief flooding his face. But I was too familiar with that underlying anger in his eyes. He walked towards me.

               "Where is your phone Julian?" My dad asked like he was trying his hardest not to yell at me.

                "Didn't take it," I replied casually, making him angrier than he already was.

              The air felt like it was sizzling with electricity. "You left on your own, without Andre or Killian, without telling anyone where you were going, and you didn't think to take your phone?!" My father snapped.

               I didn't tell him that I thought about taking my phone, and this—he was the exact reason why I didn't. I still don't understand what his paranoia is about no matter how hard I try.

               "What if something happened to you?" Dad raised his voice. It was one of those times where according to him, I had messed up really bad.

               "Well nothing happened dad, I'm here, aren't I?" I replied in the same casual tone that continued to get on his nerves.

               "Anything could have, it's past midnight—"

               "I'm aware of the time. I'm freaking seventeen dad!" The lava gushed out of me unexpectedly. "When are you going to start treating me like I don't live in a prison? I can't go anywhere without eyes on me, it's fucking frustrating...I need to breath!"

            "Mind your language when you speak to me boy, and this doesn't happen again!" His voice was firm and yet his eyes had softened after my outburst. I noticed it, but it didn't make any difference. Even if his eyes turned into pudding, he'd never change anything. "End of discussion." He added. Exactly like that.

               I stared at my dad's angry face with contempt on mine for a few moments before storming off. What was the matter with him? With them? What if I'd just decided not to come back home and disappear...then what?

               Growing up, I didn't feel the pressure of the situation, but even back to my earliest memories, there were always men in suits around me.

               At first I thought it was the way everyone grew up; under airtight protection...until I made friends and they started to leave me one by one.

               "Slow down, my lord!" I heard Andre call out, I didn't realize how fast I was stomping my way to my room. "Are you alright?"

               He didn't sound angry and yet he should have. After all, everything was my fault. Even after all the times I got him in trouble, he'd pretend it was nothing.

               "Yeah," I answered. "I'm sorry." All the anger I felt suddenly died down. I know my dad, so he couldn't have had it easy.

               He was too protective that if it involved me, then anyone's job could quickly be in jeopardy, and they'd suddenly become disposable. Thank heavens he didn't believe in changing his people every other night, although he almost got there a couple of times.

                I once walked in on dad yelling out the harshest things to Killian because he got distracted on my whereabouts for like twenty minutes. I had to lash out and defend him because at that point he was just being an ass.

               "No, no," replied Andre. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. You did nothing wrong." He ruffled my hair. "But you have to know, your dad is only looking out for you. He wants you safe."

               "More like he wants to suffocate me," I snorted.

               Andre sighed. "I hope one day you understand just how important you are to them."

"Pick a side Andre, I don't know what you are trying to say," I replied.

               "It isn't about sides my boy, and you know I'd definitely walk with you to the edge of the cliff...then push you off. But one day you'll get it. Of course your head might still be too young to grasp any adult stuff my young lord."

"Don't call me that you old geezer. You make it sound like I'm snobbish."

"Aw, is the young lord upset?" I couldn't tell if Andre was pouting or not.

"Hmph," I crossed my arms and put my nose in the air. Andre chuckled and extended his hand to me. Almost like he was waiting for me to take it.

               "Aw Andre! I don't know how to waltz but if you're feeling romantic, I'll gladly step on your toes for you," I said, placing my hand in his.

I knew how to waltz, everyone who went to my school did.

               "Give me the car keys you idiot," said an amused Andre with a chuckle.

"Have a good night, my lord," he said after taking them from me and ruffling my hair one more time.

               By the time I got to my room, I wasn't as angry as I should have been. I slumped onto the bed and closed my eyes for a moment, the sheets wrinkling where I dipped as thoughts of Kayden filled my head.

Perfect white teeth...

               Perfect hair...

               Ripped...

               So much perfection...

What the fuck was I thinking?

               His voice...

               My eyes opened at the sound of soft knocking on my door, startling me the least bit. As if I was three and had been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. No, I didn't have that growing up, but it does make for a good reference.

               Turning my head to face the door, my mom's head peeked in and her gaze softened when it landed on me. She walked over and sat next to me. It was really weird how she looked sad. Like because I'd stayed out late alone...she was sad? Sad??

               "You seem to be in a good mood," she told me instead. I realised then that I'd been smiling a little the entire time just before she knocked.

               "What are you embarrassed about?" She motioned to her ears, telling me that mine were flushed. Sometimes I forgot how well she knew me. At least to some extent.

               "It's nothing mom," I pretended to sound serious and it actually worked out.

               "Your dad and I... you know we love you right?"

               I didn't answer.

               "We do, honey."

               "Then maybe you guys should think about what I want for once and not what's most convenient for you. I have a life too."

               "This is the best for you honey, one day you'll–"

               "I'm tired of everyone telling me I'll understand, why can't I understand now? Stop keeping me caged–"

               "We're not–"

               "Fine, I'm tired mom, it's late and I need some sleep," I said. I was trying so hard to reign it in and had had enough arguments for one night. Or morning to be precise. If it weren't for the situation, I might've gotten a lecture about cutting people off when they spoke. Lucky me.

               With what looked like tears in her eyes, my mom left my room. I sighed and dropped back onto the bed. Why was everyone acting so weird?

I wasn't a big fan of my life. And this kind of situation was exactly why I'd lost a good deal of friends over the years. Sometimes it was because they got uncomfortable from being watched all the time. But I couldn't really blame them.

That didn't mean it still didn't suck every time they made excuses to make sure I didn't hang out with them.

The only ones I had left were the friends from school. And all we can do over the holiday is text each other because we live hundreds or thousands of miles away. I don't even know where some of them live. I don't know if they genuinely care about me or not but we always text, or call to check up on each other.

This was another reason why I was in an insanely expensive private boarding school. It was to make sure my life could be easily monitored and contained.

But ironic as it was, it was the one place I could actually relax. Nobody cared, there were no bodyguards to reach me over there and I had the company of actual people my age. It was the best time of my life, and it would be over after one last term.

The only people I frequently saw were cousins and rarely my dad's friend's kids. Or more importantly the ones I've made some type of friends with.

And now that I had Kayden's phone number, I didn't know what to do with it. I mean I could text him. He won't reply.

What if he didn't reply? I actually didn't save my number on his phone, I just used his phone to call mine. Yes, I'll admit that I just wanted him to save it himself. Just thinking of what to do was making me a mess.

I picked my phone and put it back down over ten times. And then I finally gave in.

Me:
Hi.

I hit send, then switched my phone off and put it on the night stand and tried to sleep. It was an extreme measure—switching off the phone—but I wasn't taking any chances.

I lay awake as everything inside me held its breath.